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K/^iss-darie Roseboom, 


THE 


STARLESS CROWN. 



JANE ROSEnOOM, 



AUTHOR OK 


^‘Lawgiver and other Poems,'’ 


Iw\NSiNG, Mien.': 

I^AUNT Thompson, Printer and Hinder. 
18S9. 

Cy9 



Kntcrccl according to Act of Congress, in the year iS88, by 
JANE ROSEBOOM, 

In the Office of the Eibrarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C. 


TO THE MEMORY OF 


MY LOVED PARENTS, 

WHO HAVE GONE BEFORE ME TO THE WORLD OF LIGHT, 
THIS BOOK IS MOST AFFECTIONATELY 


DEDICATED 



THE PRELUDE. 


In offering these pages to the public, it is not 
done with a wish to become falsely represented as 
a character of genius, or to be regarded as one of 
superior talent; far from it. Whilst I do fully 
realize my own inability, to write has been to me 
the dearest pleasure my heart ever knew. To close 
the open doors, shut from my eyes the busy scenes 
of life, and allow my mind to follow a thought- 
lighted train over the hills and plains of imagination, 
shunning the pit-falls, and culling flowers by the 
wayside, has thrown a sunbeam over many a dark 
spell. It was in this way I gathered the particles, 
and have knit together this simple story. Should 
the readers be benefited by the reading as much as 
I have been writing it, we each are sharers, and the 
reward is with me. 


Jane. 




CONTENTS. 


Chapter I. 


Sophia’s ambition to become an author. The attempt made 
known to her mother. Its influence. Her besfinninor 
related. Approaches Saul. His opinion and advice. 

Chapter H. 

Soj^hia muses over their conversation. Confidence weakened. 
Written pages reviewed. Determination declared. Late 
hours. Saul’s watchfulness and skill in obtaining the 
Mss. His surprise. Sophia’s dignity manifested. Aunt 
Sabrina’s talk with her husband. His advice in regard 
to Tom. The quoted lines. 


Chapter HI. 


listorv of Mr. and Mrs. Brown. Mode of training 
sir children. Sophia’s turn of mind. Saul’s character 
rtrayed. His regard for Sophia. Reasons for feeling 
lignant toward Maria Starky revealed. Saul’s plan to 
;vate Sophia and its effect. His frankness expressed. 


Chapter IV. 


T'ichie’s call. Her inquisitiveness. Aunt Trichie at the 
ndow. The intrusion. The discussion and Sophia’s 
lignation. 


Chapter V. 


’s unhappy frame of mind. New dress wanted, 
and social. The idea of winning L. H. Benjamin, 
le necessity of Sophia being tastefully dressed made 
own to her father. His thoughtful reply. Dissatis- 
:tion out-spoken. Old suits examined. Mother’s ward- 
3e. The note. Sophia’s regret. Dressed in mother’s 
tternut colored cashmere. 



lO 


Contents. 


Chapter VI. 

The storm. Down cast look. Aunt Sabrina’s experience. 
Saul’s opinion of the weather. Tom in rubber boots 
and coat. Braving the storm. Kind reception at Mr. 
Starky’s. Topics of the evening. Supper. The part- 
ing. Tom and Sophia “walk home in clear, calm star- 
light.” 

Chapter VII. 

Aunt Sabrina’s inclination to hear the news. Aunt Trichie’s 
second call. The evenin’ star. Doctor’s lantern. Saul 
and Tom listeners. Laughter. Talk at the dinner table. 
Saul’s look and personal appearance. Particulars related. 
Saul’s duty performed. 

Chapter VIII. 

Mr. Starky’s nativity. Education and nobility of character. 
His marriage. Happy union. Death of three sons. 
Mai ia’s development and early piety. Her engagement 

Chapter IX. 

Mr. Brown’s inquiry. Aunt Sabrina’s suspicion. The writ- 
ten sheets. General appearance of the room. Reasois 
assigned. Saul’s mission with Sophia explained. SopHa 
pens down the items. Sophia and Tom in the parbr. 
The argument. Sophia ruled. Tom’s new and speedy 
arrangement. The wrong horse. The load. Frst 
sight of Dr. Green. The sensation. Tom’s sympadiy 
and kind words. 


Chapter X. 

Sophia’s anxiety in regard to Dr. Green. Aunt Trl'hie’s 
report. The opponent and her puzzling propcdtion. 
Sophia’s call at the law office. Saul’s admonitiai and 
instruction. 


Contents. 


II 


Chapter XI. 


Sophia’s return home. Dr. Green’s engagement with Maria 
Starky discussed. Saul’s unexpected call. The snow 
storm. Attempt to spoil the mutuality between Maria 
and L. H. Benjamin. Tom’s suggestion. Sophia’s wish 
to recede accepted. Prospect of a singing school in 
Copperville. Saul’s influence required. 


Chapter XII. 


Sophia’s regret. Her literary talent displayed. Artfulness 
in approaching Saul. His opinion of Dr. Green. Sophia 
at the town hall. Dr. Green charmed. The dream. 


Chapter XHI. 


The bridal rose. Mr. Starkj at the law ofiice. Plans and 
wishes adopted. Aunt T richie’s solicitation on the street. 
Invitation to dinner accepted. Visit to the greenhouse. 
Aunt Trichie’s call, effort and success. 


Chapter XIV. 


Xhe first meeting. Happy prospects for greater good. Saul’s 
\ resolve to approach Mr. and Mrs. Brown. Mr. Brown’s 
igness to be taught. Aunt Sabrina’s self sanctifi- 
1. Tom’s seriousness. Bad dreams. 


Chapter XV. 


] 1 the morning after his ecstatic dream. His note to 

ia. His first visit. Hasty engagement. Saul’s 
awakened. The burdened father. The difference 
een a professional gentleman and one who is a mere 
mer. Sleepless night. Dr. Green’s second visit. 
Lits’ consent. The pledge. 


Chapter XVI. 


: 1 made welcome. “ How are you goin’ to manage 

?” Unsettled question. The book. Sophia’s ex- 
position. Dr. Green’s plan of breaking the engage- 
between Sophia and Harrison. Task of writing, 
broken. 



12 


Contents. 


Chapter XVII. 

The dull morning. Sophia’s letter read. Harrison’s change 
of feeling made known to Saul. His regard for Lizzie 
exposed. Saul pleased with Harrison’s impression. His 
own misfortune revealed. The law practice. 

Chapter XVIH. 

Saul absent. Prayer meeting in the law office. Aunt 
Sabrina and Sophia’s ajDprehensions. Aunt Trichie’s 
parting words. Fears presented to the doctor. His 
soothing reply. Saul at the tea table. Suspicions pre- 
sented. Saul’s knowledge of Dr. Green related. Private 
conversation between Saul and Tom. 

Chapter XIX. 

Plarrison’s dread to approach Lizzie. His first call. Saul 
awaits his return. The song. Harrison’s position as a 
gardener. Saul speaks encouragingly. Harrison’s sec- 
ond visit. Saul’s call on Lizzie and his influence. The 
veil lifted. Harrison’s third visit. Saul’s plan adopted. 

Chapter XX. 

The supposed plan to overthrow the engagement between 
Sophia and Dr. Green. Doctor’s agitated fury. Soohia 
terrified. Doctor’s advice in regard to her condition. 
His bravery assured. A word in behalf of Aunt Trichie. 
Her position in society. Doctor an aristocrat. Hs re- 
semblance to Saul. Wedlock. Baptisms. 

Chapter XXI. 

Unhappy position. Conversation. Sophia persists in the 
publication of her book. The title page. Fathtr’s con- 
sent. Undertaking and success. The returmd Mss. 
Enclosed note. The dark hour. Dr. Green’s ?kill and 
affectionate regard displayed. His final exile. 


Contents. 


3 


Chapter XXII. 

Judicious principles disregarded. Father’s advice. Mother’s 
counsel. Sophia’s confidence in Dr. Green unbroken. 
Uncle Caleb’s and Aunt Trichie’s opinion of Dr. Green. 
Aunt Trichie’s disposition to benefit Sophia unheeded. 
Sophia’s sinful wish. Aunt Trichie’s sudden death. 
Sophia’s dress properly arranged to attend the funeral. 
Wish to attract the attention of L. H. Benjamin. The 
disappointment. Out-of-place movement repulsed. 

Chapter XXIII. 

The carriages. Jealousy aroused. “Saul with a woman 
hanging on his arm.” The joke. Truth revealed. 
Aunt Delila, Mrs. L. H. Benjamin. Maria, Mrs. Marti- 
more. The effect. Maria a missionary. Love and 
religion. Sophia sees her mistake. Reviews her past 
life. Her sad condition. Saul a true friend. A new 
plan devised. Aunt Sabrina delighted with the thought 
of Saul taking Sophia to Kingumton. Tolling of the 
church bell. Death of L. H. Benjamin announced. 

•Chapter XXIV. 

The character of L. H. Benjamin. His influence as a 
Christian. Unlooked for legacy. Passage from Patrick 
Henry. The wall of separation. Maria’s wish accepted. 
The departure. Sophia’s delight at the sound of the car 
whistle. Aunt Sabrina’s wish “ to know how the will 
read.” Sophia’s ambition to find Dr. Green. Notice in 
the daily. Suicide. Sophia’s unyielding disposition to 
believe. Goes to Dunberry. Truth confirmed. Return 
home. Talk with her mother. Aunt Sabrina dreams. 
Saul’s delay. Unpleasantness. Take the night train. 
“Fare you well.” The journey. Arrival at Uncle 
Sammy Smith’s. Reception.' Uncle Sammy interests 
Sophia. “ The little chap.” The telegram. 

Chapter XXV. 

Uncle Joe and Aunt Susan Kinkade’s home near Kingumton. 
Farm stock. Household population. Prosperity and 
mode of doing. Allotted one hundred acres. Sylvester 


4 


Contents. 


an unfortunate. His occupation. Taste for knowledge. 
Attention to study. Call to preach the gospel. Agita- 
tion of his parents and their opposition. Sylvester’s con- 
fidence in his calling. The delegation of ministers. 
Sylvester relates his Christian experience, his ardent de- 
sire, and explains to them his reasons. Their decision. 
Sylvester a chosen vessel. Special advice. A cloud of 
sorrow. The way to obtain means. One more attempt 
to change Sylvester’s mind. Quoted reply. The con- 
sent. Preparations for college. The last morning. The 
farewell look. 


Chapter XXVI. 

Sylvester’s journey and safe arrival. The kidnapper. Syl- 
vester alarmed. The photograph. The kind professor. 
New home. Room. First letter home. Confidence in 
Mrs. Gregnal. First morning at the college. His diary. 
College course. Trials and temptations. Talk with 
Professor Gregnal. Mother’s letter. Visits home. First 
sermon in the old home church. Uncle Joe’s gratifica- 
tion. Aunt Susan’s belief. Size of Jerusalem. A 
graduate. 

Chapter XXVH. 

Return to where we left Sophia at Uncle Sammy Smith’s. 
Her anxiety in consequence of Saul’s dispatch. Uncle 
Sammy reassumes his conversation. His belief. Predes- 
tination discussed. Aunt Tabbathy’s views. Thaddie 
and the pipe. Sophia’s views made known. Rev. Syl- 
vester a favorite. Idea of a union between Sylvester 
and Sophia introduced. Walk to the postoffice. The 
ride. Festal preparations. First glimpse of Sylvester. 
Introduction. The occasion. Sophia’s appreciation and 
inquiry. The answer. “What the termination will be.” 
Sophia’s first letter from home. Change in her looks. 
Suspicion. Stranger on the walk. Sophia at the depot. 
Dunberry detective. “Thoughtless move.” Flea in 
Uncle Sammy’s ear. Saul’s letter of advice. Adopts 
the sacred service. Elder Kinkade’s calls, love and ad- 
miration. Beau knot. Aunt Tabbathy’s opinion and 


Contents. 


5 


regret. Conversation with Sylvester. His confidence 
inSophiaasa Christian. His sincerity confirmed. Sophia’s 
return home. The wedded wife of Rev. S3dvester 
Kinkade. 

Chapter XXVIH. 

Reception at Father Kinkade’s. General belief of the pub- 
lic. Sophia’s dissimulation revealed. Sylvester terrified 
at the announcement. Walk to church. Aunt Susan’s 
interrogation. The report. S^dvester’s wish to know 
the true sentiment of her mind. Sophia’s change of 
heart. Sylvester’s confession. Farm scenes. Cruel 
words. Talk with Aunt Tabbathy. Uncle Joe and Aunt 
Susan’s decision. New home. The move. Sophia at 
Uncle Sammy’s. The cross. Current report. Effort to 
satisfy Sophia. Her unyielding disposition. Saul’s let- 
ter read. Sophia’s expectations made known. Rev. .. yl- 
vester leaves Kingumton. Accepts the pastorate at Brigh- 
ton Center. Hopefully settled. Influence rejected. The 
old lady. The excitement. Sylvester’s assertion. Un- 
wise talk. The good sisters. Usefulness at an end. 
“ Where will you go next?” Sophia influenced lo return 
to her mother. Sylvester’s return to Kingumton. Dis- 
ma^^ed. Aunt Tabbathy an angel of mercy. Letters 
read. Sylvester’s love reassured. The written page. 
The correspondence. Uncle Sammy’s fear. Sylvester’s 
self reproach. The Psalmist. 

Chapter XXIX. 

Aunt Susan’s apprehensions. The drive to Kingumton. Joy- 
ful exclamations. Talk. Over-throw related. Aunt 
Susan’s suggestion. Disapproval. Un^le Joe’s and Aunt 
Susan’s return home. Aunt Tabbathy ’s idea. Empty 
pulpit. Rousing sermon. The attachment. Sylvester’s 
wish and dread. Aunt Tabbathy’s opinion. Sylvester’s 
feelings and submission. “Lamp in a dark place.” Let- 
ter from Saul. Agitation. Hurrah. Guy’s sportive- 
ness. Uncle Sammy’s idea of the letter. vSylvester ex- 
cited. The new choir. Sylvester’s happiness disturbed. 
Uncle Sammy’s advice. Chance at hand. Rev. Sylves- 
ter Kinkade elected pastor of the old country church. 


i6 


Contents. 


Chapter XXX. 

Uncle Sammy and Aunt Tabbathy in behalf of Sylvester. 
Letter addressed to Saul. Sporting club. Sylvester 
leaves Kingumton. Arrival at Copperville. The sur- 
prise. Note to Aunt Tabbathy. Sophia’s idea of a home. 
Aunt Sabrina’s remark. Sylvester’s reply. Aunt Sa- 
brina at thechurch. Discourse. Eaves-dropping. Finan- 
cial affairs. Sad topic. The mortgage. Sylvester hav- 
ing taken charge of a church communicated. “ Church, 
I wonder where?” Burkshire. The woods. Complaint 
to Aunt Sabrina. Her views and what she was expectin’. 
Sylvester’s explanation and decision. The conclusion. 
Return to Kingumton. Reception. Sylvester’s trials. 
People of the parish and their praise-worthy efforts. 
The anniversary. Happy surprise. New Year’s morn- 
ing. Walk to thechurch. Sylvester and his ministerial 
brethren. The table. Prayer. The unwise clergyman. 
The response. 

Chapter XXXI. 

Sophia’s imposition. Messenger sent to Burkshire. Sylves- 
ter’s dread to meet his friends. Sophia’s last wish. Syl- 
• vester’s impression. “ My dear wife, I love you.” Fare- 
well leave of little Lemuel. Song. The kind messenger. 
Interpretation. Reception at Uncle Sammy’s. Sylves- 
ter’s change of feeling. History of his many trials. 
Uncle Sammy’s and Aunt Tabbathy ’s sympathy and 
encouragement. Retirement. Fears and apprehension. 
Sylvester taken home to his parents. The happy family. 
Look of seriousness. Things hoped for. Physicians 
refused. Confidence in mother’s ability to cure. Uncle 
Uncle Sammy’s and Aunt Tabbathy’s return home. The 
evening. Smothered thought awakened. Trials made 
known to his parents. His wish in behalf of little 
Lemuel. Parents’ re'gard and assurance. Sylvester’s 
kind warning and instruction. Preparation for Sabbath. 
Fear and dread. The sermon. The load of unbelief 
removed. Farewell address at the church. Twilight 
hour. Words to his physician. Reply to his mother. 


Contents, 


7 


The consultation. Uncle Joe and Aunt Susan encour- 
aged. Sylvester’s remark to Aunt Tabbathy. His last 
wish and parting words. Farewell kiss. Translated to 
the Son of Righteousness. 

Chapter XXXII. 

Messenger to Burkshire. Sophia’s inquiry. Money wanted. 
The good deacons. A new suit. Sophia’s disposition 
portrayed. The fog of sorrow. Uncle Sammy’s drive 
to Burkshire. His success and return. Conversation. 
Shackles thrown away. Thaddie. Later news. Sophia’s 
change of mind disregarded. Arrival from Copperville. 
Sophia’s surprise on Wednesday morning. Equipped 
“in a distasteful way.” Start for Kingumton. Aunt 
Sabrina at the dinner table. At Mr. Kinkade’s. Sight 
of the casket. Carried away. Professor Gregnol and 
his kind regard. Sophia’s helpless condition. Led sup- 
ported to the tomb. Last requiem. 

Chapter XXXHI. 

Sophia’s new position. Aunt Sabrina’s inquiry. “ Close 
whisperin’.” Off in Burkshire. Mr. Brown’s short 
visits and return home. Talk with the deacons. Truth 
confirmed. “Go to Kingumton for a strike.” “ Lump 
saved.” Little bank. Exclamation. “Countin’ on the 
better.” Bad dream. Sylvester’s perfections rehearsed. 
The rebuff. Business matters. A word from Aunt 
Sabrina. The honest deacon. Taken to Kingumton. 
Trying meeting. Uncle Joe’s duty to Sophia as a 
daughter-in-law. His position and reply. The disap- 
pointment. Aunt Sabrina’s opinion. Salary rewarded. 
Aunt Susan’s wish to keep the child. Termination. 
Horse-block. Ride to Uncle Sammy’s. The encounter. 
Telegram. Uncle Sammy’s proposition accepted. Last 
hours in Burkshire. On hoard the train bound for Cop- 
perville. Unlooked for event. Death of Mr. Brown. 
The mother’s wail. Sum drawn from the private sav- 
ings bank. Hidden from mortal view. Saul’s return. 


i8 


Contents, 


Cpiapter XXXIV. 

Sophia once more an occupant under the parental roof. Her 
regard for Mr. Harrison. Gloomy forebodings. Aunt 
Sabrina’s comforting words. Sophia’s hopelessness. 
Plan for the future. Thoughtless expression. The 
still whisper. Aunt Sabrina’s critical look. Her sug- 
gestion. Sophia more feeble. Little Lemuel with new 
friends. Aunt Sabrina seriously ill. Kind friend. Two 
extremes meet. Robbed of her hidden capital. Sophia’s 
suspicion. Saul’s feelings awakened. Doctor’s opinion 
and remedy. Aunt Sabrina’s hearing ear. Saul’s gesture. 
Conversation on the veranda. Aunt Sabrina at the win- 
dow. Grief. Said’s anxiety in her behalf. Trouble 
revealed. Saul’s advice and fatherly care for Sophia. 
“I ’ve made up my mind to that.” A recollection. “ A 
just judgment.” Aunt Sabrina’s will for next time. 
Sophia attacked with hemorrhage. Saul’s love. “The 
lonely grave.” . Saul’s special prayer in her behalf. The 
light of nature. Quoted lines. Saul continues in well 
doing. A flash of hope. The gloomy grave. Unsanc- 
tified nature. Saul’s faith. Sophia’s dream. Saul’s 
confidence in God. The hymn. So])hia awakened. A 
sinful heart. Sorrow for sin. “Unfeigned lips.” Wish 
in behalf of her helpless babe. Darkness of mind. 
Lost. State of hopelessness. “ I’m lost, but God is good.” 
Words with emphasis. Silent prayer. Victorv gained. 


CHAPTER I. 


“ Here I am, and have yet not one page written. 
This will not do. To succeed, I must perform; to 
accomplish, I must make a beginning,” said Sophia 
to herself one lovely morning, just as the sun had 
thrown his gorgeous rays of yellow light across her 
window sill; and with an air of speculation and per- 
severance, she adjusted her writing material, seated 
herself at the table, picked up her pen, and hastily 
began to write down the long lines of thought that 
ran through her mind simultaneously, and with so 
great a degree of readiness as to render the attempt 
very encouraging to her. 

“It is but a simple thing to write,” she continued 
to reason, “as thought, the property of the mind, is 
ever current, and as free as the flowing tide.” 

Onward, still onward her conceivable ideas ran 
with such extreme superfluity, thai in a short time 
she had accomplished that which, agreeable to her 
own mind, merited great praise and admiration. 

“ Sophia, come, I want you,” said Aunt Sabrina. 

“For what, mother.^” 

“To do an errand for me, right quick.” 

“Dear me, where are the bo3^s.^ I am writing, I 
have made my beginning to write that book I ’ve 
been talking about. How can I stop. I am afraid 
I shall lose my place.” 

“Well, never mind, then, if you have made a 
beginnin’ to do that writing it ’s no ways likely you 


20 


The Starless Crown. 


feel willin’ to be disturbed,” and with a pleasing* 
sensation at heart, she very readily excused her. 

The thought of Sophia’s writing a book was 
exceedingly animating to Aunt Sabrina, so much so^ 
that she was forgetful of her own business, and made 
various and many mistakes, during the forenoon, 
such as dropping forks, losing her dish-cloth, leaving* 
the kettles uncovered and blistering her fingers, all 
of which was very vexing to her. 

“ I ’ll warrant it,” she said, “ if there ’s any good 
cornin’ ’long, there ’ll always be bad enough with it, 
to make it even, for I never know’d it to fail when 
we ’re countin’ on the better, that the worst don’t 
come close ’long side of it.” 

In this troublesome way the hours glided by, and 
as soon as possible after dinner she made a short 
visit to Sophia’s room, to get, as she said, ‘‘her mind 
righted, for she had too much thinkin’ to set down 
to do sewin’.” 

“All right mother,” said Sophia, as she entered; 
“ I hope your coming will result in comfort and 
encouragement to both,” meanwhile picking up the 
sheets of paper, and squaring the edges upon the 
table, continued by saying, “I have written almost 
as fast as a bird can fly.” 

“What, all that said Aunt Sabrina ; “well I should 
say you had, now I want to know what that ’s all 
about.” 

“ Why, in the first place, I spoke of Tom. Instead 
of alluding to him as a. gardener, I have spoken of 
him as the toiling townsman. You see, I know 
exactly how he looks when dressed in his shoes, and 
blue, and of course I can describe him without trouble. 
What is correct cannot be incorrect, so there can be 


Writing a Book. 


21 


no wrong in my writing it. I have told quite a 
lengthy story in regard to him and his elect. 

“ I have not referred strictly to myself, for, as you 
know, there is an interrogation between us; not that 
he knows, or even thinks, but I do, consequently I 
have but skimmed over a representation, that, to 
some degree only, resembles me. 

“ The next thing of importance is the tragic tale of 
the Cuckleberry’s. I have written out a full and com- 
plete statement in regard to their man}’ troubles, and 
it makes an interesting story, too, you’d better bet.” 
“Bless you, child, did you make it up.^” 

“Why no, mother; do you not remember old 
Jenkins, the tinner, and tht awful times he and his 
wife used to have a few years ago. I have heard 
you tell about it, and how they would contend, and 
become so enraged, and how she, one windy day in 
autumn, influenced him to go with her hickoiy-nut- 
ting, and there stabbed him in the woods 

“ I guess I know all about that, but I never heard 
him called by sich a name as that before.” 

“ Certainly not ; that is Action, mother. You know 
I must modify and fix things to suit my taste. That 
is as literaiy people do. All they say is not real, 
neither is it fancy trimmed guess-work. They set 
their e3^e on one thing and make something else of 
it, and that is as I shall do. 

“ I am having very bright anticipations and happy 
hopes. I do believe in a short time I shall have 
accomplished much; beside, will it not be jo}^ to you, 
to know I have ascended the mount of fame.^” 

“I do hope, Sophia, you will. You have made a 
purty sharp beginnin’. What is that writin’ over 
there .^” 


22 


The Starless Crown. 


“That, do you mean.^” 

“ Right there where your huger is.” 

“ That is where I bring in Maria Starky. I have 
spoken of her just as I think. I have given a brief 
sketch of her hgure, circumstances and position, and 
of her countenance as being sour enough to produce 
face-ache, but I proceed to describe her as one shad- 
owed over with palm leaves of artihcial purity.” 

“That is about as good as anything you could say 
of her. It ’s purty near right, I think. Is that the 
last.^” 

“ Mortal, no. I have been penning facts in regard 
to lots of others in town, but I hardly think they 
would know themselves were they to read it. I 
do not purpose having my pages as reflecting as a 
looking glass.” 

“What are you going to call your book.^ You will 
have to have a name for it.” 

“ I hardly know. I will write awhile, and then 
calculate the title from what I get written. Of 
course it will be a variety. To be plain and truthful, 
everything.” 

After some time had passed, perhaps an hour or 
more, and Sophia had turned the leaves, reading a 
little from here and there, just enough to give her 
mother an idea of her mode of writing. Aunt Sabrina’s 
mind became righted, and she was ready to return 
to her work again, feeling “comforted,” as she said, 
“for she was sure of one thing, that there was nothing 
’long side of Sophia but good luck and happiness.” 
At which time also, Sophia was being left in a state 
of almost indescribable enjoyment, in consequence of 
the flood of imagination, as she termed it, grown 
out of the circumstantial events of every-day life, 


Talk with Saul. 


2$ 


which to her had in it a beauty to more then equal 
that of a flowery prairie. 

In this frame of mind, so neatly gilded over with 
the most serene self esteem, she devised various plans 
for future eminence, which she considered attainable, 
doubting nothing, upon the grounds of her becoming 
a distinguished author, reaching, as she already had, 
a point where the flames of renown were burning 
vehemently upon the altar which her expectations 
had builded. 

With this feeling of loftiness she unhesitatingly 
approached Saul, one whom she had previously 
dreaded, with a cheerful air, saying, “ I have made 
my beginning.” 

‘‘What beginning, what now,” he asked. 

“Why, the same you have heard me talk about.” 

“Yes, but you talk everything.” 

“I know it,” she answered with glee; “but now I 
am writing it.” 

“Is it possible,” he exclaimed; “writing every 
thing.” 

“Yes, and anything, in a simple hap-hazard way,, 
just as it comes to mind. Do you not remember, I 
have told you that some bright sunny morning I 
should commence writing. I have purposed to write 
stories, many enough to fill one inch thickness between 
two bevel-edged backs, I assure you.” 

With a shrill laugh, Saul threw himself carelessly 
upon the sofa, locked his fingers for a pillow, and 
insisted upon hearing something of her story. 

“Will you have this pillow,” asked Sophia. 

“No, madam, I thank you; my crown will need 
my hands whilst listening to your story. Come, I 
am impatient, out with it.” 


24 


The Starless Crown. 


Saul, you know well, there is enough right ’round 
here to keep me thinking, and of what we think we 
can write. For one thing you know my mind is 
exercised over Tom. Then here is Maria Starky, 
besides all the rest in the town. I should like to 
know if it was all written that could be and tell the 
truth too, if it would not make a book, and if artfully 
written might do much good.” 

“I will tell you, Sophia,” said Saul, earnestly, “to 
adopt good language, cultivate an amiable disposition, 
a meek and quiet spirit. Deal truthfull}', generously, 
kindly with Tom, as you call him. Give yourself 
less trouble about your next door neighbors, and 
in fact the entire communit}^ and you will accom- 
plish greater good than can be realized from your 
bound book, no matter how well or how artfully it 
ma}^ have been written.” 

“You reason just about as I should have expected, 
but if wise in my eyes to write, and I can by the use 
of the pen relieve my mind of much that is vexing, 
it is right. It could not be wrong. It would cer- 
tainly injure no one, and bless me.” 

“Had you,” replied Saul, “the ability to write 
with aptness upon any subject that would lead to 
exalted celebrity, I should feel proud and happy to 
know you have made a beginning, but pra}’ do not 
allow the surrounding blusters of eveiy-day life, 
that so much trouble and vex 3^011, to become 3^our 
all alluring text book.'” 

“ Saul, 3^ou are alwa}^s in opposition to me. You 
make me dread you. There is no satisfaction in 
even trying to tell you a thing I think, say or do. 
Certainlv I could not trust a secret of importance 
with 3^ou.” 


A True Friend. 


25 


“ No, no, in that you are wrong; I am indeed your 
most reliable friend, one in whom you can trust the 
deepest secret your heart can know. I shall con- 
sider it a privilege to be of service to you, and at 
any time when my advice or opinion can in any way 
benefit you, you can have them. Yes, it would be 
the joy of my heart,” he continued, “ if you would 
indulge me in giving you my decided conviction in 
regard to the firmness, uprightness and purity of 
your admirer before it is too late. It is indeed plain 
to be seen, you are horribly staggered over something 
which to my mind is of but little importance.” 

With a sudden start, Saul leaped from the sofa, 
and with an admiring glance towards Sophia, sang 
out — 

“ There is a beauty in each flower, 

A sweet in every bush and bower.” 


26 


The Starless Crown. 


CHAPTER II. 


The remainder of the afternoon passed slowly 
away. Saul had returned to his office, leaving 
Sophia to her own consideration. For awhile she 
mused over their conversation, and with a somewhat 
weakened disposition she immediately reviewed the 
already written pages of her intended book, half 
determined to destroy them, when suddenly a flash 
of perseverance crossed her mind, and she declared 
her determination to persist in her undertaking. 

‘‘ It is my privilege,” she said to herself, “ and I 
will do as I please. I am too independent not to act 
my own pleasure.” Up to a late hour that night 
Sophia could be seen from the front walk leading 
from the street to the house busily engaged writing, 
with now and then a stop to consider what to say 
next, as most writers do. 

From appearance she was pleased wifh her work, 
as a smile had settled upon her face, whilst her 
Angers flew swiftly over the pages. 

The town clock told the hour of twelve, one, two. 
^‘Two o’clock! bless me,” she said, ‘‘ how time flies. 
This will never do. I have not purposed to write a 
volume in a day. Nt), not I,” and carefully slipped 
the sheets of paper under the table-spread, little 
thinking she was being watched by a pair of keen 
eyes from the bay window, which projected street- 
ward, making a convenient place for Saul to notice the 
movements of Sophia when engaged about her table. 


Saul’s Maneuver. 


27 


It was no common trait in the character of Saul 
to meddle with the pursuits of others, or wish to be 
a busy-body in things that did not belong to him; 
but under the circumstance of Sophia’s peculiar turn 
of mind, and one too, for whom he had formed a 
true and devoted attachment, his desire to get an 
idea of her stor}'^ became strongly intensified. 

To ask permission to read, would, he was sure, 
end in a refusal. If he must necessarily trespass, 
he deemed it best to dare before being denied, and 
without hesitation made a firm resolve which he 
soon carried into effect. 

Sophia had no sooner lost herself in sleep than 
Saul lightly tip-toed into her room, took possession 
of her manuscripts and left, feeling exceedingly 
happy. 

It is very probable to suppose his happiness at this 
particular time was like that of an urchin to whom 
roguish tricks are as ecstatic as success to the skillful 
oarsman. 

But Saul’s chief object was to become acquainted 
with her aptness in writing odds and ends, or, to use 
her own language, “everything.” 

It was not long however before his mind became 
sorrowfully surprised. He found the substance of 
the composition to be of a distasteful nature. 

“Is it possible,” thought he, “that Sophia can 
engage in a work so void of calculation and ingenuity, 
and feel elated ? Poor, foolish girl, certainly it will 
not be long before she will discover her injudicious 
attempt at writing. At all events it is to be hoped 
she may, and drop this lofty idea of becoming an 
author.” 

With these impressions permanently settled in his 


28 


The Starless Crown. 


mind, he tossed the papers aside, and prepared himself 
for the remainder of the night. 

But Saul could not sleep. In his wakefulness he 
reasoned the absolute absurdity in which Sophia had 
referred to Maria Starky, a beautiful and accom- 
plished lady; to Tom’s coarse shoes, blue stockings, 
uncombed hair, woodsy appearance, which was so 
truly false and uncharitable Also, the undue reflec- 
tions cast upon different individuals, illegally set forth 
as they were, to Saul’s clear, preconceivable mind 
were less than the refuse of a rag bag. 

But fast the quickly coming day 
Had chased the dreamless hours away. 

It came, a lovely autumnal morning. Saul’s en- 
gagements for the new day would not allow him to 
remain long in his room. Sophia was more indolent 
that morning than usual. ‘‘But these papers,” said 
Saul to himself, as he gathered them up in his hands, 
“ must be returned. They must not be missed from 
her table. They must not be found in my room.” 
He therefore arrested her attention, after which he 
sent her to the kitchen on an needless errand, during 
which time he hastily returned the manuscripts to 
their proper place. 

On her return he thanked her in his cheerful, good 
humored way, sa3dng, “Obedience is like a culled 
flower, beautiful and much to be admired.” 

At the breakfast hour it was observed that Sophia 
carried herself with an air unusually dignifled. 

Soon after breakfast Aunt Sabrina, having an 
opportunity to talk with her husband, said, “ Sophia 
is doin’ well, I expect. She thinks she is, and I really 
hope it ’s so.” 


The Old Man’s Caution. 


29 


‘‘Yes,” said Mr. Brown, “so do I. It may be 
she ’ll do a good thing. Can ’t tell about it, till it 
comes out. If she gets a book goin’ once; it will set 
us all up; I know I ’d be glad to see that time come, 
fur its purty hard gittin’ along.” 

“She tells me, she thinks she will mitten Tom; 
have nothin’ more to say to him. I guess she means 
it.” 

“No, wife, that won’t do. I think she hadn’t 
best do that yet. Let her git a little further along 
with her book fust. You see it would be puttin’ a 
stop to all our dealin’s. Tom is wonderful clever 
always, you know. If I want his bosses they are 
ready for me, and you khow too he is generally 
lib’ral with his garden products, they come good, 
are a great savin’, ain’t like havin’ them cost us lots. 
You’d better jist tap Sophie on the shoulder, and 
step one side, and tell her I say she had better hold 
on a little. It will do no harm if she has more than 
one iron in the fire. Be keerful that you don’t let 
Saul hear you; best let him not hear everything.” 

“He isn’t here, he left on the first train this 
mornin’.” 

“He did, eh? Well I was jist goin’ to say, he is 
a sprightl}^ young lawyer, that is what every body 
calls him, but my opinion is, he is too much taken 
with the Starkys to be a genuine friend to Sophie, 
but it would n’t do to tell him so.” 

“That is about as I think,” said Aunt Sabrina. 
“You see his havin’ a profession goes a great ways.” 

“O, of course,” replied Mr. Brown. “No tellin’ 
but they’ll be after him good and strong. Seems 
like they ’re making lots of him now. It’s every 
thing these days if a man can only have lamin’.” 


30 


The Starless Crown. 


‘‘Father, that is jist what Sophie says. She thinks 
when a young lady settles in life, she should settle 
well, and not have the foot of pride kick at her. 
She believes in lookin’ up. “I do believe she 
would love Tom, if he was only professional.” 

“I know she’s purty high minded; may be it’s as 
well, but you best tell her what I’ve been tellin’ 
you. Best to keep on the safe side, always have 
more than one thing to turn to. This is a hard 
world to git through, that I found out long ago.” 

Aunt Sabrina obeyed the wishes of her husband, 
and after some urging succeeded in forcing the truth 
upon Sophia’s mind in such a way as to lead her to 
accept her father’s advice. 

During the day she was so much entangled with 
the web of thought that she scarcely recognized her 
dearest friends. 

“Sophia,” said Aunt Sabrina, “Aunt Trichie is 
wonderin’ what has come over you. She says 3^ou 
are so stiff. Shall I tell her what 3'ou are doing 
will you see her?” 

“The dear me, mother! Aunt Trichie is so talka- 
tive, I know not how I could endure her to-da3^, and 
I do not know as it would be best to have her learn 
too much of m3^ business. It would be told all over 
the town, and I would be one to be gazed at b3^ 
ever3^ bod3’'; besides I cannot bear the interruption. 
When I am in a study 3^ou know it will not do.” 
And sinking back in a large eas3' chair, she folded 
her hands with great grace, and quoted the well 
known lines from the gifted Mrs. Hemans: 

“ Thou hast a charmed cup, O, fame, 

A draught that mantles high. 

That seems to raise this earthly frame 
Above mortalit3^” 


A Mother’s Pride. 


3 


Sophia’s enlarged development so astonished the 
mind of her mother, that she turned and walked 
speechless to the kitchen, where she remained for 
some time apparently spell-bound, after which a 
change of feeling crept over her, and she wept 
aloud. 

‘‘What, what is the matter.^” exclaimed Mr. 
Brown, as his ear was disturbed by the sound, and 
quickly turning upon his heel neared the doorwa3\ 
“Anything new,” he asked. 

“Yes, I think every thing seems new nowadays. 
It’s so surprisin’. How little we’ve been thinkin’ 
about what our daughter was goin’ to get to be. 
She is like some of them we read about, I tell you. 
She has jist been sayin’ something (can ’t remember 
it all) about being above immortality.” 

“ What a ways,” sighed Mr. Brown. “I should 
like to hear more about that.” 

“Well, in a minute,” responded Aunt Sabrina, 
then taking the wash-rag, and after dipping it in cool 
spring water, bathed her tear-scalded face, adjusted 
her hair, tied on a clean apron, and having prepared 
herself to assume as* far as possible, her natural 
appearance, said, “Now we’ll go. I guess I’m all 
right enough.” 

After reaching the apartment Aunt Sabrina said, 
“Darling will you repeat to me the same you did 
before to-day.^ Father wants to hear it.” 

“What was it about, mother.^” 

“ Why, that something about bein’ above immor- 
tality, you know.” 

“Mortality,” replied Sophia, with a smile. 

“Well, mortality, then.” 

Sophia immediately complied with their request. 


32 


The Starless Crown. 


after which a fresh burst of tears started from Aunt 
Sabrina’s eyes, as she said: “O, my dear darlin’ 
child, I do feel to bless God for helpin’ you to know 
how to write such a verse as that.” 

‘‘No, no, indeed, mother,” said Sophia, swiftly. 
“ Those lines were written many years ago. I simply 
quoted them.” 

With an irregular step, the father left for the 
kitchen, again ejaculating as he went, “ S’pqse it’s 
some of Saul’s tollin’. He’s like a spring, always 
flowin’ over.” 

“Sophia noticed the embarrassment of her parents 
and said “Mother, you know Saul has forced it 
upon my mind to cultivate knowledge. He speaks 
of it as a choice root productive of much. I can 
think of other lines that you might be pleased to 
hear. He had me learn them; he likes to have me 
do so. Shall I recite them ? ’ ’ 

“Yes, if they are comfortin’,” was the reply. 

“ Oh, deem not they are blest alone 
Whose lives a peaceful tenor keep ; 

The Power who pities man, hath shown 
A blessing for the eyes that weep. 

The light of smiles shall fill again 
The lids that overflow with tears ; 

And weary hours of woe and pain 
Are promises of happier years.” 

“That sounds exactly right,” said Aunt Sabrina. 
“It is just as I believe, that there will come a better 
day some time. What we have to do is to keep up 
good courage and be hopeful.” 


Family History. 


33 


CHAPTER III. 


Before we enter too far upon the unfortunate 
events of Sophia’s life, it will be well to give a brief 
history of the family. 

At an early period in manhood, Mr. Brown 
married, and with his wife settled in the town of 
Copperville (as we will call it), a prosperous village 
town in his native county, where by industry and 
prudent economy he accumulated some property, 
but not sufficient to allow him that degree of inde- 
pendence as was needed for the maintenance of his 
family. It was therefore his doom to earn his 
bread by the sweat of his brow. 

He scarcely ever having been beyond the boundary 
of his native county, was almost universally recog- 
nized at once by most persons with whom he met, 
as Jeremiah- Brown. He was a son of poor parents, 
and not having had the advantage of early educa- 
tion, was termed illiterate. 

Whilst this could not unjustly be said of him, the 
rudiments of hospitality, self-possession and perse- 
verance were readily observed. 

The characteristics of Mrs. Brown were of a very 
different guise. She was proud, imperious, sarcastic. 
Her knowledge of books was some better, but not 
sufficiently so to fill any sphere of usefulness beyond 
the ordinary duties of home life, or bear supremacy 
over her husband. 

The difference in their views, plans and judgment 


3 


34 


The Starless Crown. 


were such as produced domestic troubles many 
times, and as might be supposed, Mrs. Brown’s 
inflexible disposition seldom allowed her to yield to 
the wishes of her more charitable companion. 

Her influence over her husband was such as often 
times resulted in petty troubles, and caused him to 
become estranged from those who were ever ready 
and willing to be his friends and fellow helpers. 

To their children they were zealously attached, 
especially to Sophia, the eldest and only daughter. 
She was the sunshine of the house, their earthly 
pride and glory. Whatever she asked for, wished 
or exacted was had if possible, no matter how 
great the sacrifice. Indeed, no children exceeded 
their own. No ill they did was meaningly wrong. 
No story untrue they ever told, and with this surety 
of perfection it was not necessary that they should 
“think on Solomon and use the rod.” With this 
delinquency on the part of the parents, it could not 
be otherwise expected than that the children would 
assume a reckless, shabby appearance, which was 
more noticeable in Sophia than either of the others. 
Those things which should have been most 
essential to her were insipid and useless, and it is 
indeed, sad to that if at any time sh^ was 

influenced to an act of kindness, it was most 
frequently found to have been based upon some 
selfish motive. When prompted to attend church, 
it was sure to be the result of some object — either 
to show a new hat or dress, to see some newly 
married couple make their appearance, to put a 
word in some girl’s ear, or guess out some one’s 
business and understand it well enough to talk 
about it. It was not long, however, after Saul en- 


A Friendly Cousin. 


35 


tered the family, that it was observed that Sophia 
was becoming more tolerable than she had ever 
before been. 

To describe historically the details of Saul’s life 
and parentage is not particularly essential beyond 
the mention made of him in the outline of our story. 
But we cannot omit saying just here, that he was 
one of superior talent and noble deportment, that 
refined qualities and religious sentiments were 
indisputably his. The difference between him and 
Sophia, the cousin into whose society he had been 
so recently thrown, was to him a matter of great 
importance. 

Her silly, erroneous thriftlessness was to Saul 
perfectly preposterous, and he looked upon her with 
marked feelings of sympathy and aversion. 

A duty presented itself, and he resolved to enter 
upon it. His efforts were at first unsuccessful. 
■^‘To mould the mind of a child,” he said to Sophia 
one day, “is something to do; but to mould you 
over is more like educating one from among the 
tribes of Mohammed.” 

Those indifferent ways, arrogant, and frequently 
tempered with sarcasm, were to Saul so sad and 
unbecoming that he determined, if possible, to trace 
out some cause, to which she jokingly replied to 
him on one occasion “that he would have to dig to 
the marrow in the bone to find it.” 

“I will not,” said Saul; “you have a heart, I will 
find it there.” 

“I suppose I have, but it’s petrified.” 

“I know of circumstances under which you have 
evinced the deepest feeling, so your heart is not 
petrified.” 


36 


The Starless Crown. 


Those words spoken were to Sophia like live 
coals, and brought a tear as quick. 

She knew she had a heart, but a seemingly 
uncontrollable will, for the reason that she had not 
even tried to control it. 

‘‘My antipathies are so strong,” she said, “they 
face me like fiendish plagues.” 

Saul’s kind words bordered her round like a 
wreath, until by his continuance he influenced her 
to relate to him some of those vexing circumstances 
which had so embittered her mind against Maria 
Starky to so great a degree, also the entire family. 

He found them to be little incidents, mostly back 
in early girlhood, and such as are common in school 
days, and though simple as they were, we cannot 
fail to give place to at least two of them. 

It was a common practice for the spelling classes^ 
after having spelled their lesson, to have given them 
geographical names to spell, also names of persons 
and things, according to the age and capacity of the 
pupil. 

Spoke the teacher to George Brown, “Let me 
hear you spell your name.” 

The little fellow straightened himself up manfully 
and spelled it, “g-h-m, George.” 

“You may take your seat, sir,” said the teacher 
with a stern look, meanwhile heavily striking his 
heel upon the floor to silence the laughter. 

A few moments later the teacher said to George 
Starky, “Can you spell George for me 

“Des, sir; d-e-o-r-d-e, Deorde.” 

“Can you not pronounce g, giving the sound of 
the letter as distinctly as possible.^ Let me hear you 
try.” 


SciiooL-GiRL Prejudices. 


37 


‘‘Des, sir; cl.” 

“That ’s a little man, he will learn to pronounce 
g some of these clays,” and the class took their seats. 

It was very vexing to Sophia to see her brother 
with a paper cap fitted to his head, and placed to sit 
off in one corner by himself with the name of George 
given him to learn before dismission ; whilst George 
Starky had received many compliments and his 
locks of chestnut colored hair smoothed by the 
teacher’s hand. 

Not long after, when the first reading class was 
called to read, Sophia refused to sit by Maria, 
because she felt indignant and did not wish to touch 
a Starky. 

The teacher arose with austerity and obliged her 
to take her place in the class where she belonged. 

When it came her turn to read, in her verse a 
sentence read, “When he first began to be a 
manager in business,” and she through mistake read 
it “When he first began to be a nigger.” 

In a moment every one in the room was testing 
his skill, siss, hiss, hissing until the siss hissing 
went the general round, and the teacher himself 
would not have dared to say he did not do the same, 
or something near like it. 

He very soon, however, reassumed his dignity, 
and with the handle of his pen-knife gently tapped 
against the round of his chair, saying, “That will 
do; attend to your books.” 

Then turning to Sophia, said, “That was a bad 
mistake. You may commence and read that verse 
over again, if you please.” 

During these intervening moments, Maria, girl- 
like, hacl, after covering her mouth with her book, 


38 


The Starless Crown. 


touched Sophia with the tip of her elbow and with 
a sly wink, whispered, “Will you have my glasses.^” 

These, with other circumstances of a similar 
nature, planted in Sophia’s heart that which took 
root and grew thorn-tree like, bearing its thousand 
spines. 

Did Sophia ever overlook and make friend with 
Maria ? We will see. 

Saul very attentively listened and the truth was, 
he felt for her a deeper sympathy than at any time 
before. He believed to encourage and elevate her 
mind would be the surer way of overcoming those 
little ills, and destroying the growth of enmity, and 
it was as true as that light expels darkness, his 
endeavors to benefit her were artfully and faithfully 
performed. As is shown, so exalted became her ideas 
under his influence that she soon began to prepare for a 
higher life than to be wife to Tom, the honest 
gardener, to whom she had vowed faithfulness. 
She believed that, in a short time, she should 
succeed in the completion of a work that would lead 
to popularity. This was embarrassing to Saul, who 
not for one moment had introduced an insinuation of 
the kind; but simply to teach her penmanship, note, 
letter writing, etc. It is at this point in the his- 
tory of events that our story begins. 

With Sophia, Saul was open-hearted and frank. 
To use his own language as expressed, “ She is 
horribly inefficient. Her effort at writing is merely 
a freak of fanaticism, for authorship can never grace 
the name of Sophia Brown.” 


Aunt Triciiie’s Anxiety. 


39 


CHAPTER IV. 


Aunt Trichie’s calls were frequent and critically 
made. She believed all was not quite right, and it 
was not wrong if she looked into matters. Sophia’s 
lofty airs, and Aunt Sabrina’s copious tears meant 
something, that was certain. 

“I ’spose the weddin’ day can ’t be fur off, or 
somethin’ of that kind,” she calmly said to Aunt 
Sabrina one da}’. 

I do not know what is in the future. It is not 
best to tell all we know, but Sophia has taken quite 
a turn, and I am surprised at it, too. I guess every 
body will be, some day. Don’t suppose any body 
has any idee of her value. She is like some of them 
we read about, I tell you.” 

‘‘What is it.^” asked Aunt Trichie, “pray tell 
me; I feel anxious to know. It ’s nothin’ bad, I 
hope.” 

“ My, no, it ’s somethin’ we ’ll all feel proud of 
some day, if nothin’ happens.” 

With a stern look, and a strongly emphasized 
expression. Aunt Trichie spoke out. “I must know; 
do tell me right quick. She is not going to come a 
hard pull on Maria Starky, and get L. H. Benjamin^ 
is she.^” 

“ No, it is not that, we don’t want to put out the 
Starkys’s eyes by cornin’ any sich tricks as that. It ’s 
a good deal more, you ’ll find, when it comes out.” 

Aunt Trichie continued her inquisitiveness by 


40 


The Starless Crown. 


asking, “ Is she becomin’ christianized under Saul’s 
influence.^ He’s been leadin’ her to church, and 
they ’ve been tellin’ me out round he has had her in 
Sabbath school.” 

‘‘No, Trichie, you hain’t guessed it yet, and it 
is ’nt likely you would if you kept on guessin’ a 
whole day. I tell you it ’s a thing so surprisin’.” 

“ Please, now, Sabrina, do tell a body. I spent a 
sleepless night, last night, thinkin’ about you, and 
wonderin’ what was going to happen. It almost 
seemed as though I could breathe something unnat- 
ural in the air ever since I was here the last time 
afore, my mind has been so harrassed.” 

■ “ I would be willing on my part, but don’t sup- 
pose Sophia would be. She thinks it ’s best to live 
under a nom de plume.” 

“Nom de plume,” repeated Aunt Trichie, whose 
curiosity reached a higher point than at any time 
before. “You do not mean to advance the idee that 
Sophia is going to be a book writer, do you 
quickly stretching her neck to elevate her head in 
token of highness. 

“For mercy sake. Aunt Trichie, I do wish you 
would not bother me any more, my mind is so exer- 
cised I hardly know myself, and as I have said before, 
it is not best to tell all we know.” 

“Yes, but when folks begin to put on airs, like 
Sophia, it tells somethin’; besides your looks was no 
way blindin’. When I am keeping secrets, I always 
try to look nateral.” 

At this moment Aunt Sabrina was called to 
another apartment, during which time Aunt Trichie 
tripped out round to an outside window, where by 
jiolding her hands snugly around her face, she 


What Aunt Trichie Saw. 41 

caught sight of Sophia in close proximity with Tom. 

‘‘The dear me,” she exclaimed, “I do wonder if 
that ’s what she calls nom de plume. If it is, then I 
don’t know.” 

The view was unsatisfactory. Sophia had too 
soon caught sight of her, as she stood with her nose 
tightly pressed against the window pane, and hastily 
drew towards her. 

Without expostulation. Aunt Trichie turned with 
an august air, and walked away, but doubly per- 
plexed with anxiety. The intrusion disturbed the 
tranquillit}^ of the parties to so great a degree, that 
in a short time Tom left; leaving Sophia to her own 
skill in finding out the desired information. 

“Oh, mother, mother,” said Sophia, “I never 
saw such an impudent old piece in my life, as Aunt 
Trichie is. Believe me, she went round to the parlor 
window to peek. I suppose it was to see that which 
she could not otherwise hnd out. She stood with her 
nose so'tightly pressed against the window pane, 
that at first I thought she had fastened to it a piece 
of white paper. Had she been in talking with you.^” 

“O, yes, you know exactly how she is.” 

“But, mother, I hope you did not lead her into 
my business; did you.^” 

“I don’t think I did.” 

“You do not think you did. Do you not know.^” 

“Now, Sophia, I did the best I could, talkin’ with 
her. Can’t you trust to me, and my judgment.^ Of 
course you know she is awful inquisitive.” 

“I know all that perfectly well, but you should 
have guarded against any expression that would 
lead to exposure. Do you think you did.” 

“ I say I did the best I could. I don’t think I did 


42 


The Starless Crown. 


quite, — blessed thing I was called out, otherwise there 
is no tellin’ what might have been said.” 

‘‘What was it you did say Tell me, I am anxious 
to know.” 

“I kept putting her off sidewise, you know.” 

“But, mother, I want to know, did you talk about 
me and my business 

“Now, Sophia, don’t bother me any more; you 
are nearly as bad as Aunt Trichie, when you once 
get goin’.” 

“I want to know sure, was there anything said 
that would lead to suspicion .^” 

“The dear me, child! I do wish you would stop. 
I almost forget about it. I think our conversation 
struck a hint or th’ like. I believe I told her some- 
thin’ like this, I would be willin’ on my part, but I 
didn’t suppose you would be. You wanted to live 
under nom de plume. It was in some such way as 
that I said it.” 

“Yes, I have no doubt of it. It is as I believed, 
something would spill out. Just one word too much,” 
said Sophia, with wild excitement. “Aunt Trichie 
will take pleasure in using the word nom de plume 
all over this town. She will go to Starky’s with it, 
and mother, you know perfectly well, if they get 
hold of what I am doing, they will buzz at me like 
so many mad bees. They would most wofully hate 
to have me to get ahead of Maria, that they would! 
They swell mightily over her saintly poetry. I don’t 
believe she writes it without help, but if she does it 
don’t amount to anything. I wish our editors would n’t 
publish for her. It only helps elate her. You know 
the}' think themselves aristocracy, and can run over 
every one they please, and do, except the L. H. 


An Unhappy Disposition. 


43 


Benjamin family, or some such. Well,” she con- 
tinued, ‘‘ let them interfere with me, and they will 
find me their match. Tom and I are going to 
attend the Castle Hill singing school this winter, 
and that will give me a good chance to sow poor 
seed for them, especially for Miss Maria, and I will 
do it too.” 

Saul opened the door leading into the room just 
in time to catch the last sentence as it fell from her 
lips, to which he hastily replied, “With what measure 
ye mete, it shall be measured to you again.” 

A long pause ensued. Sophia then broke the 
silence by saying, “ Saul, you do not know Maria as 
well as I do.” 

“Certainly not,” he replied. 

“It is because 3^ou do not watch,” with which 
a corresponding sentence from Aunt Sabrina fol- 
lowed. ' 

“To watch is not my profession,” responded Saul. 

“One would suppose you could see without 
watching.” 

“Will you please be so kind as to tell me what it 
is you see so utterly wrong. It may benefit me to 
know.” 

“That is about what I think,” said Aunt Sabrina, 
‘Tor you seem to be gettin’ altogether too thick 
with them.” 

“Saul,” said Sophia, “to be truthfully honest in 
this matter, I don’t believe there is one good trait 
about Maria. She is both impudent and indolent. 
I do not believe she would pare a potato, if she never 
ate one. Of course she puts on style, and sometimes 
she will appear very modest, but it is perfect mockery, 
nothing more. I do not feel afraid to speak as I do, 


44 


The Starless Crown. 


for I, having lived here close by her always, have 
learned her to a letter.” 

“Well, Sophia, if you are correct in your repre- 
sentation, she is certainly in a very sad plight. For 
all such we should have the deeper sympathy. I 
am not sufficient!}^ acquainted with Miss Maria to 
decide the matter positively at present, but. time 
will tell, as the one reliable proof we have is that 
every flower unfolds its own leaves.” 


The Invitation. 


45 


CHAPTER V. 


‘‘Sophia, what does ail you, you seem to be in a 
wonderful whine about somethin’. Is there anything 
that I can do for you,” said Aunt Sabrina. 

“How I do wish father would ever manage as he 
should,” responded Sophia, with a dissatisfied- air, 
“He is forever on the background. I suppose he 
will think it terrible if I ask for a new dress. But 
mother, what do you suppose I am to appear out in 
next Tuesday evening. There is to be a grand social 
at Mr. ^tarky’s and believe me, I have had a special 
invitation. I have nothing suitable to wear, but I’m* 
going.” 

“Well,” said Aunt Sabrina, “you may just as well 
go, and see all you can over there. I don’t suppose 
they want you at all, but they thought they must 
invite you to show off, that’s what it’s for, — starchy 
Christianity, you know.” 

“Of course that is it, and I will go all the more 
to provoke them. I have been thinking supposing 
I should meet L. H. Benjamin there. He will be 
there, I have no doubt. You see Maria is after 
him, no mistake. It is enough to make any one 
laugh to see her pin neat little bouquets on that old 
gentleman’s coat, and fill his hands with choice flowers 
when he is taking his leave after having been with 
her, I say her, it is more especially her. I see such 
things oftentimes from my room window.” 

Aunt Sabrina, after laughing heartily, said, “Well 


46 


The Starless Crown. 


raly, I ’m glad to see you throw off that sad look ; it 
may be,” she continued, ‘‘if you are trimmed up 
nicely, you can cut Maria out and get him yourself.” 

“Mother, I have been thinking of that very thing. 
Would you be willing.^” 

“Yes, of course I would be. The one who gets 
L. H. Benjamin gets a man, and more.” 

“And throw Tom away.^” 

“If Tom loves you truly well, as a man should 
love his intended, he would not turn round and marry 
another, but keep you in his heart. It wouldn’t be 
long, only a few short years at the most, and he 
could have a second opportunity with competency. 
There is no tellin’ but he would have an eye to that.” 

Said Sophia, “If he is as sharp as Saul thinks he 
is, he would. Shall I talk round him to see if I can 
get his opinion on it.” • 

“ O no, I don’t believe I would. He is so conscien- 
tious, he would be sure to see a something in it not 
quite right, no matter how bright the side you held 
up. You see he holds to this Church doctrine and 
believes every one should keep lookin’ on either side 
of them, so they will be sure to keep in the narrow 
path that leads jist so straight. If we were to have 
him boss in everything there would be no gittin’ 
along at all, that would be it. I guess we shall ex- 
ercise a little independence of our own. I do not 
want to say anything to hurt his feelin’s, his meanin’ 
is well enough I expect, but I think a good many 
times that he is a little bit too lordly. If he was to 
know what we have jist been say in’ he would be for 
puttin’ somethin’ in the way of your goin’.” 

“He will not bridle me on every hand, I thank 
you. He could not keep me from there next Tues- 


Nothing to Wear. 


47 


day evening, for I am going. The only question is, 
what shall I wear.” 

‘‘Why, clothin’, child; you have several dresses, 
any one of them would do I am sure. There is 
your striped silk, won’t that answer.^” 

“ That is so tattered it shows the lining in several 
places. I have over-hauled every piece I have, and 
there is something the matter with every single one. 
I do wish father would get me a new dress. I should 
have one rich and stylish for the occasion, and you 
know I can’t make a grand appearance without one.” 

At this moment the bell rang and Sophia left to 
return soon, but was kept much longer than she 
expected. During his absence Mr. Brown happened 
around to the back door where Aunt Sabrina met 
him, and introduced the necessity of having Sophia 
tastefully dressed for the occasion. 

For a few moments Mr. Brown thoughtfully rested 
his tired hands on one knee, with his foot upon the 
threshold, then explained with an emotion of tender- 
ness the impossibility of a thing of the kind. Said 
he, “Tell Sophie, father would be more than glad to 
satisfy all her requirements, but it is impossible for 
me to meet the engagements for the cornin’ winter 
that are already made. Try, wife, and hx her up 
the best you can with such as you have, and may 
fortune smile on her with that.” 

With his eyes flooded with tears he left to fill out 
the hours of daily toil, for daily bread. 

On Sophia’s return the flrst words were, “ W as n’t 
father here whilst I was out ? I thought I heard you 
talking with him.” 

“Yes, and he thinks he can’t meet the engage- 
ments already made.” 


48 


The Starless Crown. 


‘ ‘ If he would make less engagements of some kinds, 
and more of others it would be quite as well,” she 
peevishly said.” Father works hours enough with 
his hands, but he has a senseless head. Were it 
otherwise, we would not always be bound under the 
yoke of poverty. There is not another girl in this 
town who has so little that is nice to wear as I 
have,” she continued with heavy sobs. 

“I know,” said Aunt Sabrina, “that father is 
short-sighted. If I did not see ahead myself, and 
square him round every now and then, the mercy 
knows what would become of us. I do not believe 
we would have a home to cover our heads to-day. 
I do hope, child, you will have better luck than I 
did when I married your father. I like him well 
enough, only I don ’t like poverty. It ’s no way 
convenient, this always bein’ poor.” 

“I mean I will have it, I am bound on it,” said 
said Sophia. “I will make a strike for L. H. Ben- 
jamin! see if I don’t. I do not care if he is old and 
walks with a cane, so long as it is gold-headed. If 
it is a candid fact that Maria has too tight a hold of 
him to break, I will work things out in some other 
way. A fortune I will have, and a good one, too. 
‘Where there is a will there is a way,’ so see if I do 
not. I have all confidence that my book will be a 
success, and that will be a fortune of itself.” 

“O, my, yes,” said Aunt Sabrina, “there, that is 
too. I had almost forgot about it. I ought not to 
feel poor, but try and see things more as they are. 
I do suppose I have a fortune in you to feel proud of, 
and it may not be long before it can be seen, either. 
I do not want nom de plume always.” 

“But mother it will not answer to talk and not 


The Difficuety Surmounted. 


49 


do. We must be looking into things. If father will 
not be influenced to contract more debt, I must be 
patched up then, I suppose.” 

Said Aunt Sabrina, “You jist go and bring down 
3’our striped, silk ; 3^ou might bring do'v\^ 3mur black 
silk, also, Then there is that salmon colored poplin, 
3^ou might bring that down.” 

Sophia hastil3^ complied, and in a short time a pile 
of (so-called) old dresses were flung on the table. 
First one and then another was newly tried on, each 
in turn having its own deficienc3E After various 
plans had been suggested, with as man3^ failures, the 
onl37 alternative was mother’s wardrobe. 

“There, mother,” said Sophia, “is 3’our new but- 
ternut colored cashmere, would not that look well, 
changed a little and more tastefully trimmed.^” 

“I do not know but that would do; we will see.’^ 
It took but a few minutes to decide. It was soon 
seen a slight change in the draper3% the seams taken 
deeper in two or three places, with the trimming off 
Sophia’s old African satin, would make a st3dish 
suit without extra expense. The question was no 
sooner settled with satisfaction, and the heart of 
Sophia lighted with ever3^ expectation of pleasure,, 
as she looked into the near future, when she would 
be at a grand social, so tastefull3" dressed in her 
mother’s butternut colored cashmere, hoping to at- 
tract the attention of L. H. Benjamin, than a change 
awaited her. The door opened. “Here, Miss Sophia, 
is a note for you,” said a ros3^-cheeked little girl. 
“Where did it come from.^” 

“Mr. Harrison asked me to give it to you.” 

There was no time lost in opening the envelope. 
“Oh, mother,” she exclaimed, “how confused my 


4 


The Starless Crown. 


50 

plans ! How surprised I am ! I am truly vexed ! The 
Starkys have invited Tom, and this note is from him, 
asking me to be in readiness at seven p. m. to accom- 
pany him. I do wonder if I am to have him in my 
way. I did*want full chance myself, I wished to be 
free, but if he is to go, and I must go with him, I 
shall be tied fast, for Tom is always like a tick, 
sticks close.” 

“I do feel most dreadful sorry myself,” said Aunt 
Sabrina, “that it must be so. But I don’t see how 
you can git around it. You know we are awfully 
dependent upon him.” 

“Yes, that is what being dependent does, it is 
bondage. So I suppose I must make up my mind 
to appear pleased, but the truth is I am not. I do 
not wish to have him with me. I wished to carry 
out a thing or two according to my own will, that I 
cannot, and have him with me. I suppose as long 
as he thinks of me as his, and I do go- with him, I 
must go until I have reached the end of going. I 
do not want an3’thing to come in the wa}^ of our 
arrangement for this winter. We have it all calcu- 
lated, the school will commence in just one week 
more, I would not miss that for the world. It is a 
splendid drive to Castle Hill and it makes glad times 
for me. I enjo}’ it so much, Tom has such a nice 
I'ig, bells, and good warm robes. It makes me feel 
gay to think of it.” 

“Yes, yes, Sophia, you must try and git along 
with Tom, it wouldn’t do for you to be cold and 
sidewise. I think you ma}'^ have a chance to get 
acquainted with L. H. if he should be there, which of 
course he will be, without much interference, and if 
you shouldn’t, there may come another openin’, for 


Preparation for the Social. 51 

I do believe the sayin’ that ‘what is to be, will be,’ 
so if you are to be Mrs. L. H. Beniamin, you will 
be.” 

During the remainder of the day, and days follow- 
ing, little if anything was accomplished by Aunt 
Sabrina and Sophia, beyond the needful preparations 
for the social. Aunt Sabrina’s dress was adjusted 
to Sophia’s form. Yards of ribbon in bunches and 
bows, an abundance of rich lace, arranged with 
exquisite taste ; also, a set of fine jewelry, so that 
instead of being patched up, she was covered with a 
mass of superfluity. 


52 


The Starless Crown. 


CHAPTER VI. 


Tuesday afternoon came, preceding the evening 
in which the invited guests were to assemble at Mr. 
Starky’s, with high wind and heavy rain storm. So> 
phia looked downcast and sorrowfully disappointed. 
“I will warrant it;” she said, “if ever I want to 
appear out there will be something to inconvenience 
me. I had calculated on clear sky, and moderate 
weather. To have the occasion agreeable, it is such 
we need. But I cannot give it up; I must go. I 
have every article of dress that is necessary to make 
a good appearance; besides the guests will be of the 
very best society. I cannot now make a miss.” 

“I think,” said Aunt Sabrina, ‘‘that it’s more 
than likely Tom will go. You know he ’s awful per- 
severin’. May be Saul would lend a helpin’ hand; 
he knows you want to go. It will soon be tea time, 
and when he gets here we can find out somethin’ 
more of the prospects.” 

“I shall make the thing possible,” said Sophia,, 
“for I am going if the wind does blow. Tom and 
Saul together can get me there.” 

Just then Saul came ih. 

“What do you think of the weather,” asked 
Sophia. 

“Terrible, terrible,” responded Saul. 

“Yes, but you ’ll go to the social, will you not.^” 

“Why, no, there will be none, unless this storm 


A Stormy Night. 


53 


abates between this and live o’clock. No one but 
an urchin could get there. I have had all I could do 
get from the office to the house.” 

“I think,” said Aunt Sabrina, ‘‘the wind may fall 
at sunset. I raly hope it may, for it would be alto- 
gether too bad to have Sophia disappointed. She ’s 
been lookin’ forward to this evening with so man}'" 
happy expectations. She had, T should say, better 
be dressed and in readiness at the hour. Young 
folks are awful perseverin’ sometimes, you know, and 
Tom is one of that kind; he does business up iathat 
way.” 

“I am quite sure you can act your pleasure in 
regard to having Sophia go; but it is certainly very 
unsuitable, according to my mind,” replied Saul. 

“We know it looks rather dark out; but there ’s 
no tellin’ but the clouds may break away after a 
little. I have done sich things many a time; go in 
a storm, and return in clear, calm star-light,” said 
Aunt Sabrina. 

“All right, you are one, and I am another. During 
such storms as this, I prefer to be within doors, unless 
obliged to go out. I shall make home business my 
social for this evening,” and left the room. 

“That is jist as comfortin’ as Saul is when he takes 
a notion,” said Aunt Sabrina, “but we will see after 
awhile.” 

A few iffinutes passed in sighs and fears, when 
Tom, in rubber boots and coat, made his appearance, 
his face was all aglow with freshness; and a merry 
laugh rang out as he chirped “ Good evening to you 
all. This coat I wore to wrap you in, Sophia; can 
you get in it.^” 

“Oh yes; I can get in anything that will take me 


54 


The Starless Crown. 


there. Are you in earnest. Will you go, Tom.^” 

“Sure!” he loudly shouted, ‘^are you ready 

“Almost,” said Aunt Sabrina, “will be by seven, 
I do hope you will carry yourself well, Tom,” she 
added. “There will be a great many strangers at 
the Starkys’, I expect. Some from Castle Hill as 
well as from other neighborin’ towns. They are n’t 
going to let a few drops of water stop them.” 

“A few drops! I tell you this is a perfect deluge,’^ 
said Tom. “I always mean to be as good as my 
word, and have come to go if Sophie wished to have 
me go with her, through this storm, but storm she 
will have to prepare for. It only being a few steps 
I can get her there all right, I guess.” 

At precisel}^ seven o’clock Tom took a strong 
hold of Sophia with one hand, and a lantern in the 
other, and down the steps to the street they went. 
At the gate Sophia began to catch for breath, saying, 
“O, it hails.” 

“ It won’t strikethrough,” said Tom, “my coat 
is thick, can’t back out now, it is too late, we are 
going to the social.” 

The heavy rain drops beat and spattered; the 
wind blew a strong gale, but with a brave heart 
Tom led the way, bracing against wind and storm 
until they reached the front door of the Starky 
mansion. 

“Some one has come,” said a voice within, and 
soon the heavy door swung back on its hinges. 

“Good evening, Mr. Harrison,” said Mrs. Starky. 
“ I am happy to see you, but how did you get here 
through this storm.” 

“Bless you,” said Tom, “do you not know a man 
can always get through when he is well hedged on 


The Walk in the Storm. 


55 


one hand, and his lantern in the other one.^ This 
lad}',” making discernible her face, ‘‘Miss Brown,” 
he added. 

Poor girl, she reeled and stumbled in almost breath- 
less exhaustion. “Ten miles walk in good weather 
would not have been as hard as this,” she said as she 
was being led from the front hall to the reception room^ 
where she was tenderly cared for by Mrs. Starky 
and Maria, who thanked her for her bravery, say- 
ing “After you have had a good rest, we will try to 
have you enjoy yourself sufficiently well to recom- 
pense you for the fatigue and exposure in getting 
here.” 

“Are there many here.^” asked Sophia. 

“Not any at all except you and Mr. Harrison.” 

“But there will be!” continued Sophia. 

“I am sure I do not know, ” answered Mrs. Starky,, 
“how great an effort people may make, we hardly 
expected any one. Yet, we cannot tell; there may 
be a few in from near by, we shall be happy .to 
see all who may come. It is quite a disappoint- 
ment to us. We hoped to have had the privi- 
lege of seeing many of our friends this evening, 
but according to the saying often referred to, ‘ what- 
ever is, is for the best,’ we must be believing, and 
regard this fearful storm as a dispensation of divine 
Providence for some good ; and be submissive if our 
purposes are not all carried out according to our 
design, and as we should have been pleased to have 
them. ‘He who sees all things sees the best.’” 

After the first half hour had passed getting com- 
fortably dry and rested, Mr. Harrison and Sophia 
were invited to take seats in the front parlor, where 
they had for the first fifteen minutes a most delight- 


56 


The Starless Crown. 


ful musical entertainment. After which the entire 
family, including Grandma and Aunt Delilah made 
themselves as agreeable as possible, by telling, old 
stories, anecdotes, and adventures until it was time 
to be seated around an extravagant table. 

They had prepared turkey, oysters, and pastry in 
abundance, nuts and candy furnished for a large 
delegation, and as there were but few of them, it 
it was remarked by Mr. Starky, ‘That they should 
eat and talk all the more.” 

The clock struck the hour of eleven much too 
soon. The evening had glided swiftly and pleasantl}’ 
away. Mr. Harrison began to think it time to return 
home; but Mr. Stark}^ told him the storm was abat- 
ing, and a little later would add a little more to the 
enjoyment of the evening, and insisted in his not 
being in a hurry. Mr. Harrison, being differently 
impressed, walked to the door opening on the ver- 
anda, and much to his surprise, saw the clouds fast 
breaking away, and that stars were shining in the 
west. The guests were once more seated in the 
paidor, and after a few words of conversation, Maria 
took her seat at the piano, and skillfully played, and 
sung with sweet voice and solemn emphasis, the 
hymn so familiar to all: “When shall we meet 
again.” Immediately after which, Mr. Harrison 
and Sophia made preparations for home, apparently 
well pleased with their reception. When they had 
received many thanks from the kind family for hav- 
ing had the favor of their society that evening, and 
their best wishes for their own present and future 
happiness, each bade good night, and Tom and 
Sophia walked home “in clear, calm starlight. 


Aunt Triciiie Again. 


57 


CHAPTER VII. 


The fatigue and exposure of the evening were too 
much for Sophia. When Wednesday morning 
breakfast came, she was not at the table. 

‘‘We’ll let her lie,” said Aunt Sabrina, “for 
there ’ll be so many things to tell and talk about, 
that we want her to feel rested and freshened up.” 

To Aunt Sabrina the forenoon was twice its usual 
length, in consequence of her inclination to hear all 
that had been said and seen. 

“No tellin’,” she said, “whether I should have 
waited or not, had n’t it been for Aunt Trichie’s 
cornin’. She is always gettin’ wind of somethin’, 
and the first thing I know she ’ll be walkin’ right in 
on a body.” 

She had called with that same old critical look, to 
see if anything new had happened, for whenever 
there was an opportunity for her to learn a new thing, 
she never lost it. Sophia had no sooner made her 
appearance, than Aunt Trichie returned. She had 
been to the business part of the town, and on her 
way homeward made a second call. 

“ Good morning. Miss Sophia,” she articulated, 
“I must have a little sport with you. They ’ve been 
tellin’ me down town, that you and Tom braved the 
storm last evenin’, and went over to the social. I 
want to hear somethin’ about it. I hope you had 
more that was comfortin’ than I had; for I was most 
dreadfully started last night. I expected to hear 


58 


The Starless Crown. 


bad news this mornin’, and so I jisf tied on my 
bonnet and started over to find out what it was.’’ 

“What could it have been?” said Aunt Sabrina; 
“What did it seem like?” 

“Why!” responded Aunt Trichie, “it was jist 
’along in the evenin’ a piece, when my old man went 
to the door; ‘Law, Trichie,’ sez he, ‘the evenin’ star 
isshininl’ ‘What!’ sez I; ‘ Caleb, the evenin’ star 
ain’t shinin’!’ ‘Yes,’ sez he, ‘’twill all be cleared 
up bimeby.’ I laid down my knittin’ and started 
for the door. All I could see was a little bright 
spot off in the northeasterly direction. ‘Caleb,’ sez 
I, ‘do you call that a star?’ ‘Wh}^, yes, Trichie,’ 
sez he, ‘do n’t you know a star when it ’s right afore 
your eyes?’ I turned round and answered him kind 
o’ short, ‘A lamp in a coal mine, more like,’ sez L 
Then I kept on watchin’, till after a little it was 
clear lost out^ Then I sot down studyin’; bimeby 
it struck me! the doctor’s lantern, thinks I. Then 
I spoke out; ‘Caleb,’ sez I, ‘there’s somebody suf- 
ferin’, and that light was the doctor’s lantern.’ ‘No, 
no!’ sez he, ‘Now, Trichie, don’t be havin’ the 
cholera, and be disturbin’ all night.’ ‘Well,’ sez I, 
‘I can’t help my feelin’s. I ’ll do the best I can.’ I 
did, but I have been in a dreadful fluster, and as 
soon as I could, I started out to hear what it meant. 

At this time Saul had been within hearing, and 
instead of putting in his appearance, stood back, an 
animated listener. While Tom was in the wood- 
house, with his mouth and ears open, catching every 
word as it fell from the lips of Aunt Trichie. There 
was no hesitancy as to the belief with either party 
in regard to the supposed doctor’s lantern and with- 
out ceremony they both entered the room, and for 


The Story of the Social. 


59 

the next live minutes the whole fabric resounded 
with shouts of roaring laughter. 

The merriment had so far reduced the inquietude 
of Aunt Sabrina’s mind that no questions were asked 
in reference to the previous evening until after being 
seated at the dinner table. She then said, “Well, 
you had a good comfortable time gittin’ home, jist 
about as I expected, I purty gen’rally know what is 
about right. I kept a watch-out ; I see it was clearin’ 
off all fair. Who all was there 

“There wan’t a single person but just us two.” 
Aunt Sabrina’s inflexible disposition was so aroused 
that she struck her hand heavil}" upon the table, and, 
after uncouthly expressing herself, ended by saying, 
“She did like to see young folks act like young folks. 
That she did not believe in their settlin’ down as if 
they was a lump of sugar, or salt, or some sich thing. 
You got there all right enough, did n’t you.^” 

“Why we got there, but then it was like going 
on a voyage, I tell you, but Tom said, ‘can’t back 
out now, we are going to the social.’ So I held on, 
and he pulled me through.” 

“I know,” said Aunt Sabrina, “that Tom is so 
perseverin’; he is jist as a man should be. When 
he puts his hand to the plough, he never looks back. 
What did they say.^” 

“O, they expressed surprise.” 

“Yes, they was sorrowfully surprised, I expect. 
If it had been somebody else, L.* tl. Benjamin or 
some • sich, they would been dreadfully pleased. 
Then you didn’t see him, eh!” 

“Why no, no one but just their own family, but 
they thanked us for our bravery, and mother you 
know how they are, so soft and smooth. Their talk 


6o 


The Starless Crown. 


is always such pretty talk, I wondered last evening 
where they went for it. They borrow, it that I 
know.” 

‘‘Do tell me, child, ever3Thing about it, I want to 
hear particulars. I feel a good deal like Aunt 
Trichie; I always want to get all the information; 
“ but, right here before I forget it, I must tell you 
what she said. It was, ‘ if she had a man that could 
take her through sich a rain and wind storm as we 
had yesterday, and on in the evenin’, she thought she 
could trust him through all the rest of her life.’ I 
think that a purty good compliment for Tom, and 
he’s jist the kind that’s deservin’ it.” 

“Just because he took me through the storm, 
mother?” 

“Yes, and for quite a good man}^ other things. 
He is what might be called a gentleman. S ’pose he 
would be if he was onl}- professional; but then he ’s 
a right down good fellow, anyway.” 

“ Then you do think him worth having do you,” 
said Sophia, heartily" laughing at the time. 

‘ ‘ M}' , yes, but then I know what I said, and I told 
the truth too, jist as I felt it. I tell you,” she con- 
tinued, “there is nothin’ like gold, if a bod}^ only has 
plenty of that, the}' have all they need to carry them 
through this world. And it would be no ways 
wrong in your doin’ what would be for the best, if 
Tom is good.” 

“Well, mother, you and I agree first best, so 
whatever my wisdom directs me to do will be pleas- 
ing to you, and what my aim is, you know.” 

“ So I do, and I hope to see it all carried out some 
da}'L” 

The conversation between mother and daughter 


Saul a Listener. 


6i 


was being technically observed b}' Saul, who turned 
at the table with his face side-wise, throwing his 
right arm over the back round of his chair whilst 
he rested the left elbow on the edge of the table, 
running his fingers through his hair, with eyes that 
spoke volumes penetratingly fixed upon Sophia. 
Aunt Sabrina’s unyielding disposition caused her to 
be insensible to Saul’s commanding appearance. 
And she proceeded to interrogate. 

‘‘I will try, mother, to tell it all through. It took 
some time to get dried off and straightened up, you 
see, for the best wrapping in the world would not 
serve well in such a severe rain storm as that was; 
but in time we were taken into the parlor, where 
the entire family convened. Maria made herself 
interesting by taking a seat at the piano. She 
played and sung. Music is sweet. It did sound 
heavenly; but then she felt, I know she did, so mor- 
tally mighty at it, that I was glad when she got 
through. Then they began to tell stories. Mr. 
Starky told some that were really interesting to hear, 
but they were calculated to lead to self emulation. 
That is their way; if they can only influence people 
to think them superior, that is enough for them. 
During this kind of conversation, I suppose to ele- 
vate Tom and me, they laughed much, and I did too, 
but I did n’t want to. I felt like anything else. To 
tell the truth plainly, I was mad. I was mad be- 
cause I was there. I do not want to go there. I 
never do. I only wanted to get to the social for the 
sake of seeing those who would be there; especially 
a few particular ones; then to be caught as I was, 
was ‘like the man in the cave.’ I would rather 
have been in jail than to be there; that’s so. But 


63 


The Starless Crown. 


there I was, and had to stay till I could get away. 
The best part was the table. That was a grand 
sight, and so delicious — everything. But I did n’t 
dare eat all I wanted, for I knew if I did they would 
call me a gormandizer. They would insist upon my 
having more of this and that more plentifully dished ; 
but I know them so well. I knew what their awful 
comments would be behind my back, so I did m}^ 
way, ate what I dared, and on the sly slipped some 
of the nuts and candy in my pocket. Then after 
leaving the table, we had the blissful satisfaction of 
seeing Maria run her fingers over the piano keys. O, 
it was tall harmony, I tell you. After so long a time 
we did get round and started off, and if ever I was 
thankful for a privilege in my life, it was to get 
away from them, and out in the street once more. 
Now, mother, you have heard it all through.” 

“I suppose I have,” said Aunt Sabrina. ‘‘For 
my part, I feel as though I could turn everything 
bottom upward that ever I saw. A great shame; 
after we had spent so much time in gettin’ you 
tastily fixed up as any one in this world could be. 
You did look more like a painted picture, or butter- 
fly than a real girl, and I did feel so proud of 3'OU. 
I thought if any one could pass you by without 
special notice, it would be a strange thing; for what 
was a plain truth, }^ou did look charmingl}^ beau- 
tiful. Then to have no one see you but Tom and 
the Starkys is awful aggravatin.” 

“ Mrs. Starky minced, as she always does, and 
spoke of their feeling disappointed, and of what they 
had hoped for, but brought up the termination that, 
‘whatever is, is for the best.’” 

“Accordin’ to my notion, that is about as she did 


Friendly Admonition. 


63 


feel. She would a good deal rather you would not 
been seen, than to have been for she knew right well 
that you would outshine Maria; and that there would 
been danger if L. H. Benjamin had been there, that 
she did.” 

‘‘Mother,” said Sophia, “do you recollect what 
you said to Aunt Trichie about putting out the 
Starkys’ eyes. When it was told to me I laughed 
heartil}^, for I saw 3’our scheme at once.” 

“Why, yes. I was talkin’ to Aunt Trichie then, 
and you do know we have to talk at random when 
she comes round quizzin’. Don’t suppose it ’s any- 
thing wrong, for to tell the truth always would be 
makin’ mischief, and we do know that would be 
wrong.” 

The subject of conversation kept all at the table 
listeners until necessit}^ compelled them to leave it. 
The crimson had risen and faded alternately on 
Saul’s face, and as soon as an opportunity presented 
itself, he kindly took Sophia by the hand and led 
her up to his room, which was getting her as far as 
possible from her mother. He then placed the chairs 
near together that they might sit close, and after a 
short pause, he began to reason with her in regard to 
her blunders of mind, and to awaken her to the 
truth that all thoughts, words, deeds, doings were 
recorded in God’s all-remembering book, saying: 
“ Do you not know it.^” 

He told her that another record had just been 
borne on high and registered; he asked her to con- 
sider its unimportant weight, and then look forward 
to the time when she would stand before the judg- 
ment-seat of Christ to bear its criticism. He re- 
minded her in touching language, if permitted, how 


64 


The Starless Crown. 


unavailing would be her offering in self defense and 
that conscience alone would reveal to her the sad 
truth of condemnation when called to stand before 
the spotless Lamb of God who died for her redemp- 
tion. He endeavored to solemnly and seriously 
impress upon her mind the truth, that things beyond 
this life were those to be sought, labored, longed for, 
and not the gold, the god of earth. That ‘‘eternity 
is the soul’s immortal manhood.” He renewed to 
her his study of mind to acquaint himself perfectly 
in regard to her true character. He told her that 
whilst she did not perhaps mean to do willfully 
wrong, or be absolutely sinful, he asked what right 
had she to deceive, to judge unjustly, to cast false 
insinuations, to speak evil of those who are kindly 
disposed, to pretend to love, falsifying. He assured 
her there was no right in it, that there could not be. 
But such he told her were the lines, as he read them^ 
on every page of her life. 

He continued by saying, though his words might 
seem severe to her, they were said for her good, and 
that the duty he was performing was a conscientious 
one, and one that was being borne on high and regis- 
tered there. Though he could not say he thought it 
would add to his crown a star in glory, still he should 
meet its approval. Yet it was not for the blessedness 
that might rest upon him in consequence that he took 
upon himself the privilege of presenting to her mind 
those truths which she was unmindful of, but were 
he to leave it undone, he should be answerable for 
having left undone that which was his decided con- 
viction to do. He then arose and kindly taking her 
by the hand expressed sympathy in her behalf, and 
asked her if she would not bear in remembrance 


Words of Counsel. 


65 


those things which he had spoken to her, and wisely 
consider that it is in this life that we live for the life 
to come. And remember also, we have given us no 
certain claim upon which we may anchor hope. To- 
day we live, to-morrow we may die, as said the poet: 

“ Still, grass stalks e’en now may have lifted their heads, 

That may die by the spade that will make ‘our last bed.” 


5 


66 


The Starless Crown. 


CHAPTER VIIL 


Among the associations in life, the circumstances 
which attend things in general, there are essentials 
which necessarily arise, such as we would cheerfully 
shun, but a matter of indifference if the}' are noticed. 
An instance of this kind is now open before us. 

Hon. Hiram Starky was the grandson of a Euro- 
pean nobleman. His father, John Jacob Starky, left 
Britain’s shores for the western continent when Hiram 
was but a small lad. He was a man of large means, 
and an extensive brain development which enabled 
him to lay a broad platform for the cultivation and 
support of his family. It is therefore not strange 
to suppose that Hon. Hiram Starky had all the 
advantages of a classical education. His natural 
ability was far beyond the common average, and 
being enriched with spirituality, a lover of divinity 
and divine things, in early manhood, he was fitly 
classed with those who constitute' the salt of the 
earth, the light of the world. The sensibility of 
his nature was so easily awakened when a charitable 
object was presented, or duty that should be done, 
it did not matter how humble or self-sacrificing, if it 
only bore the characteristics of truth, honesty and 
honor, he ever cheerfully complied and faithfully 
performed. He exercised such force and activity of 
mind, that short-comings could not justly be applied 
to him. After having ripened into manhood, he 
employed time and talent beneficially, both for his 


Mr. Starky’s History. 


67 


own personal good, and in the accomplishment of 
duties in stations for which he was particularly 
adapted and appointed. But a few years of his man- 
hood passed before his marriage with Miss Annie 
Moor, an estimable and highly educated lady from 
whom the bloom of girlhood had not faded. 

Soon after his marriage he left New England, and 
through the influence of acquaintances, of whom 
L. H. Benjamin was one, he invested means in and 
near Copperville, the town in which he soon after 
settled permanently. The union between Mr. and 
Mrs. Starky was that of true happiness. They lived 
in the pure sunshine of faith, hope and love. Con- 
sequently there were no blemishes to mar the peace 
and pleasantness of their lives. Their united in- 
fluence was a compound of usefulness, which doubly 
qualified them for the sphere of husband and father, 
wife and mother. Whilst their children were like 

Olive branches,” they were judiciously taught and 
trained. 

Agreeably to the depth of her wisdom, Mrs. 
Starky would often be heard to repeat the beautiful 
lines from the pen of the gifted author who says: 

“ Delightful task to rear the tender thought, 

To teach the young ideas how to shoot, 

To pour the fresh instructions o’er the mind. 

And breath the enlivening spirit, and to fix 
The generous purpose in the glowing breast.” 

At the time in which our first mention is made of 
the family, Mr. and Mrs. Starky, Maria, four sons, 
an elderly lady who had been a particular friend and 
one highly appreciated by Mrs. Moor previous to 
the union between Mr. and Mrs. Starky, and one 
who had given her the name of grandma as a 


68 


The Starless Crown. 


heritage, also a maiden lady, a distant relative, of 
whom we speak as Aunt Delilah, constituted the 
family. 

But upon a day, unlooked for and unexpected, 
when the glow of youth was fresh, and life was green, 
when hope was high and anticipated pleasures filled 
their young hearts, a prevalent disease attacked the 
family and three of five children were, in a few 
short hours removed from their earthly inheritance 
to the household above. 

Few families in so short a time have realized so 
severe a blow, but it was borne with fortitude and 
Christian grace. Whilst their hearts were saddened, 
and their eyes overflowing with tears, their language 
was ‘‘The Lord gave, and the Lord taketh away, 
blessed be the name of the Lord.” 

They having been for so many years truly char- 
acterized with divine things, and having led exem- 
plary lives, the removal of their children still added 
to their already exalted influence a vestment that 
more perfectly separated them from what is termed 
earth and earthly things to those spiritual. The tie 
heavenward was inseparable. It could not therefore 
be supposed that Mrs. Starky could associate with 
worldly gossip and unfriendly communications. Her 
heart’s work was for God and not the enemy of God. 
When things of undue importance were thrown 
before her, they were treated with marked indiffer- 
ence. She believed that to do good, she should 
shun the evil, and know only that which was pure 
and peaceable; that kind words, good deeds, char- 
ity, love for her fellow beings were the sure stepping 
stones from earth to immortal glory. 

It was pleasing to know the principles of the 


Maria Starry. 


69 


parents were implanted in their children. They 
were what might be looked upon as daguerreotypes, 
especially Maria, who had the exact features of her 
father and the outlines of her mother, and too, whom 
she so perfectly imitated in mind, manner of speak- 
ing, and personal appearance that it was frequently 
remarked that she looked like her father and resem- 
bled her mother. It is needless to review the lines 
of her young life, and for the time being will only 
say, her study and employment were chiefly to gain 
posession of every ideal that would be advantageous 
to her in the fleld to which her prospects led her. 

And O, how happy her young heart was. She 
knew, if Providence permitted, her mission was to 
be one of love, to teach, labor for and guide the dark 
of mind, and face to the light of Christ, and the way 
of truth. It is true when alone she would sometimes 
at the thought of leaving parents, brother, home 
friends, with all their associations and endearments, 
feel an overwhelming impulse like a flood of many 
waters ; but upon second thought she would remem- 
ber anew the passage which reads, ‘‘He that loveth 
father or mother more than me is not worthy of me,” 
and quickly brighten up with sweet thoughts and 
hopes, and sing: 

• Jesus can fill my heart with song, 

And help my tongue to sing. 

But few friends outside the family knew of her 
engagement. Among the few, L. H. Benjamin was 
one. He having been for many 3’ears a particular 
friend of Mr. Starky’s, and a father in the church, 
he was made acquainted with the general affairs of 
the family, and knew of Maria’s plans, and was 
happy in her prospects. 


70 


The Starless Crown. 


CHAPTER IX. 


“I do wonder what has happened to Sophie. She 
seems to be feelin’ down-hearted. I ’m afraid she ’s 
workin’ too hard at her book. I hope she won’t 
study herself sick, better be a little longer at it,” 
said Mr.^ Brown. 

“I have asked no questions at all,” said Aunt 
Sabrina, “but I see Saul when he led her away from 
the dinner table to-day, his looks was enough, guess 
he took her up to his room. I expect he’s been med- 
dlin’. That is about the way it goes. I ain’t 
blind. I see his twist at the dinner table, but I cal- 
culate to exercise independence in my own house, 
any way enough to talk, when I have anything to 
say.” 

think,” said Mr. Brown, ‘That Saul thinks 
lots of Sophie. I hardly think he would want to 
reprove her. It ’s jist been to tell her something. 
May be to somehow cheer her up. You know she 
was feelin’ dreadful bad; the social didn’t amount 
to anything, and she is young, and sometimes sich 
things go purty hard.” 

“I see how all that is,” said Aunt Sabrina, “and 
I felt bad enough too, but then I don’t want a third 
person to make it worse by fault findin’ and thinkin’ 
they know more than any body else.” 

At this moment Mr. Brown’s attention was turned 
to a gentleman on business; and as Aunt Sabrina’s 
mind had become excited, she made her way to 


A Disordered Room. 


71 


Sophia’s room, where she found her making rapid 
progress with her pen. The written sheets lay scat- 
tered over the table, and the general appearance of 
the room denoted negligence. 

“For mercy sakes!” exclaimed Aunt Sabrina, as 
she caught sight of the room. “This is about the 
way I have always heard say, things look, when a 
person has once got their mind sot on writin’, they 
never know any thing else. Do you see, child, 
there is my butternut colored cashmere, all in a wad 
on the floor ! Is that the wa}^ I do I have always 
tried to teach you to pick things up, and have your 
room straightened to look well enough for company 
any hour in the day.” 

“Mother!” said Sophia, “I cannot always stop 
to pick things up when I am in a hurry. I came 
home last evening tired, and where things fell there 
they have lain. I think I have had plenty to do 
since. You held me an hour, and Saul two; and 
the rest of the time I have needed to get things 
penned down. I have had plenty to write about this 
afternoon, and I haven’t it all written yet.” 

“AYell, child! that’s what I came up here for; I 
wanted to know what he meant, leadin’ you away 
as he did.” 

“Oh, to preach; he thinks himself one of God’s 
jewels. May be he is, I am sure I can ’t tell. Any 
way I don’t care, I will do as I please, but to hear 
him was better than my dinner. Just look here, do 
you see all this.^” as she waved her hand over the 
written pages. “Had I not heard his sermon this 
would not all have been. So I should feel thankful 
to him. And it is for this, if for anything at all, 
that he will meet with the approval of which he 


72 


The Starless Crown. 


spoke, if he should have the luck to meet with any. 
Mother, I do not like Saul, and yet there are some 
reasons for which I do. He is an honor to us, that 
I know, and I like him for that.” 

“My, yes,” added Aunt Sabrina, “he has a pro- 
fession, and is a big man among men, so we must 
put up with him if he is over-bearin’. I have heard 
something about scentless herbs, that if you bruised 
them they would be most dreadful sweet and fragrant. 
And child, I think, may be that ’s the way with 3^ou, 
the more you are tried, the more 3^ou show what 
you are. It seems to have been that way this time. 
How long do you suppose it is goin’ to take you to 
write 3^our book.” 

“I cannot tell. To write is sometimes like pick- 
ing up crumbs in the dark. It will surprise me, 
often, when I think I have full possession of ideas 
good and valuable, believe me, before I can get them 
penned down they slip away. Much depends upon 
what I am trying to say. What I now want is to 
get all down I can, and I must hurry, too, for Tom 
is to be here soon, and I want to be prepared to 
receive him, we have much to talk about. There are 
those in town who want to join the singing school, 
and go over in a load, but I do not like the plan, 
and shall oppose it. I shall hold to the old way, 
just Tom and I in his little sleigh. We then can 
have his own robes and be so comfortable; besides it 
makes it seem more ga^L” 

With a much happier heart Aunt Sabrina left the 
room, whilst Sophia hastily" penned down the items 
of importance, as she considered them, made a few 
changes in her room, and went down into the parlor, 
where in a short time she had the pleasure of receiv- 


Sophia’s Selfishness. 


73 


ing Tom. The argument was of considerable 
length, as the parties were not united. Tom could 
see no reason why it would not be as well to do as 
he had been solicited, join teams and all go over in 
one load, by so doing a few could be accommodated 
who otherwise would be deprived of the privilege. 
Sophia believed in ever}" tub standing on its own 
bottom. That it ought not to be expected that she 
should be crucified for the bliss of others. She also 
saw an intruder whose aim was to counteract her 
arrangement, and said, ‘Tt will be villainy on your 
part, Tom, if you allow it to be.” 

It would be needless to enumerate the points 
argued, but as might be supposed, Sophia, with 
her mother to now and then put in a word, ruled. 
Tom left broken-hearted for those, for whom he felt 
a kind regard, and who were hopefully trusting to 
his generosity to provide for them a way to get to 
the Castle Hill singing school. 

The first evening was near at hand, and whatever 
the arrangement was, it would have to be quickl}’ 
made. But Tom having an ingenious mind was not 
long laying plans which were at once adopted and 
cheerfully accepted. 

Friday afternoon came and Sophia was in the 
height of her glory. “Mother,” she said, “I am 
glad we ruled, aren’t you.^” 

“Why, yes, for your sake I am, I don’t suppose 
you would have been at all happy to be crowded 
into a load, and then, there are many things that 
never seem as well where there are too many 
together.” 

“I do not care,” she muttered, “I could ride in 
the load if I wished, but I will not. I will do as I 


74 


The Starless Crown. 


please, what I like best is to have my own way. 
Then too, if there was a load a few from this place 
would go that I do not wish should. If I can do any- 
thing to trip them I will, and I suppose I have, and 
that is glory to me.” With a flirt and a whirl she 
danced round the room, chirping and clapping her 
hands in great merriment at the thought of her hav- 
ing been a hindrance to those who were entitled to 
equal rights and privileges with herself. 

The longed for hour at last came, and she was 
politely led to the street, where to her surprise she 
saw they were to ride on wheels. 

‘‘I thought, Tom, we were to go in the little 
sleigh?” 

‘‘There is not ice enough, we shall be obliged to 
ride on wheels.” 

“But Tom there is ice enough, and I know it; 
ice is as good as snow.” 

“It is as good, but there is not enough all the 
way over; come, hop in, it is time we were riding.” 

“Why do you drive this elephant of a horse? 
You know, Tom, that I never like to ride behind 
him.” 

“I could not well do otherwise,” said Tom, “Sam 
drives the best by the side of one of Mr. Starky’s 
gay horses.” 

“What was he to be driven by the side of one of 
Mr. Starky’s horses for?” 

“To carry over a load of some flfteen from this 
place who wished to go. Come, I say, hop in. The 
load is now three-quarters of a mile ahead.” He 
then took a fast hold of Sophia, and with some effort 
got her seated in the carriage. 

. “I don’t care! I ’m mad! You are mighty mean, 


Tom’s Good Nature. 


75 


Tom ! You well know I hate this horse, besides, you 
have come a blind pull.” 

‘‘Can’t help it, darling,” said Tom, as he leaned 
a little sidewise towards her, giving her a slight 
hunch with his elbow. “Sophie,” he continued, 
“you must brighten up; we are now on our way to 
singing school.” 

“Tom, I told you I was mad, and I told the truth, 
too, for I am! I supposed we were going alone.” 

“Are n’t we, there are but just two of us and the 
horse.” 

“What I mean is I did not want any* one' from 
this place to go where we do. I want to go where 
they can ’t. You know, Tom, I love to triumph 
over a few; that I do.” 

“Well, say you do; there is where we differ; I 
do not, and darling, there are circumstances under 
which I should be governed by my own judgment. 
I could not endure to have those ladies disappointed, 
and as Saul would drive the team, and Mr. Starky 
was willing to let one horse go, I was happy in 
making the arrangement.” 

“Did you make that arrangement yourself, Tom?” 

“Certainly, I did.” 

“Then, I don’t think you have any amount of 
love for me; do exactly what you know I did not 
want you should.” 

“I do most assuredly love you, darling. I am 
very ardently attached to you, and try to see as you 
do, and do as you would like to have me. I ever 
aim to accommodate you, and many times inconven- 
ience myself so to do; but it affords me pleasure. 
The difference is we do not always look at things in 
the same light. At such times I generally refrain 


76 The Starless Crown. 

from speaking my mind;” and rather gaily sang out. 

“ But the thoughts we cannot bridle, 

Force their way without the will.” 

Then your thought wan’t right. Suppose they 
aren’t now. I wish I was home.” 

“Can’t go that way now,” said Tom, “we are 
on our way to singing school.” At which saying 
he drew up on the reins, and the horse traveled at a 
rapid rate until they overtook the load. 

“Tom, who are in that load.^ I hear them; do 
you.^ The}' seem like a jolly lot.” 

“Wait a little and you will see for yourself. We 
are nearly there. At the bend I will drive down 
through the alley, and come up on the main street 
ahead. If you get there first, you can see them 
unload; it will give you a better chance of knowing 
than I can tell you.” 

Tom did as he said, and in a short time Sophia 
was awaiting him on the porch, in front of Benjamin’s 
hall. Tom was not long away. He was therewith 
Sophia when the load neared the porch, and readily 
stepped forward to assist first one and then another 
to alight. They were all in a cheerful, happy mood, 
and without recognition they passed Sophia, and 
entered the hall. The faces of nearly all were familiar 
to her, but They did not know me,” she carefully 
whispered to Tom. 

“Perhaps they think you do not wish to have 
them.” 

“They would not be thinking far out of the way, 
if they did. Who was that who sat next to Saul, 
on the front seat.” 

“One Dr. Green, I believe; a stranger.” 


A New Comer. 


77 


The thought of one Dr. Green, a stranger, greatly 
puzzled Sophia. All through the evening she would 
look sidewise to catch a glimpse of the new doctor. 
His handsome face was too much for her sensitive 
mind, and she wished she had been in the load. “But 
I am forever on the background when there is coin 
to be gained,” she sighed to herself. The poor girl 
looked, waited and watched in vain for an introduc- 
tion. The looks of the stranger overbalanced her 
mind to so great a degree that she took no part in 
singing, and had no desire beyond the privilege of 
making his acquaintance. 

Just before leaving the hall an opportunity pre- 
sented itself^, and she enquired of Saul who Dr. 

Green was. He told her he did not know, but 

believed he thought of locating in Copperville. 

During the ride homeward Sophia was so silent, 
Tom felt he really had wronged her, by not driving 
Sam. “Sophie,” he kindly said, “ I do hope, for 
your sake, we may have snow before next Friday 
evening. If we do your wish shall be gratified. I 
will, if possible, make the ride a success to you. 

Please keep up good courage for my sake, and 

remember the adage, that it’ s a bad beginning that 
makes a good ending.*” 


78 


The Starless Crown. 


CHAPTER X. 


During the early part of the week Sophia was in 
a state of sad perplexity. She was sure if there 
should come snow, that Tom would be as good as 
his word, and do as he supposed she wished to have 
him. But there was the image of Dr. Green before 
her eyes, and her mind was too unsettled to think 
of anything, but to know him. If he was to be a 
constant attendant she should prefer to be with those 
who had the pleasure of his society, and not have it 
appear that she was really pinned fast to Tom. 

“Saul,” said she at dinner one day, “do you sup- 
pose Doctor Green will be an attendant at our sing- 
ing school during the term.” 

“I should hardly think he would be. He only 
happened to be with us Friday evening.” 

“Is he in town now,” asked Sophia. 

“I believe he left this morning. He is a young 
physician who is trying to find a suitable place to 
commence practice, I am told. He seemed to form 
a favorable opinion of our town, at least that is as I 
understood him.” 

“Do you think he will return?” 

“It is possible he may, but not immediately.” 

Sophia’s heart at once grew lighter, so much so 
that after dinner she reassumed her place at the writ- 
ing table with the resolve to accomplish just so much 
before the next Friday evening. If Doctor Green 


Town Gossip. 


79 


had left town she did not wish to ride in a load to 
Castle Hill. She knew perfectly well, if nothing 
happened to prevent, she would go, and without 
doubt have a more agreeable time than before. If 
snow fell she was sure of a nice ride, for Tom would 
not fail in making it a success, for he had said it. 

‘‘Sophie,” said Aunt Sabrina, “Aunt Trichie is 
here and wants to see you.” 

“ I am engaged at present, and can't be disturbed, 
she must excuse me,” was the reply. 

“It is too good to keep,” said Aunt Trichje, and 
forthwith pushed on to Sophia’s room. With a 
scowl Sophia at first refused to hear her, for fear she 
would not be able to fill the task before her. 

“But you must know,” said Aunt Trichie. 
“They’ve been tellin’ me all round, that there’s 
been a fine young doctor here from some place, after 
Maria Starky, and that they are goin’ to be married 
after a while, when he gets round ready to settle 
down. Then, there is that poor old L. H. Benjamin, 
he is to be pitied if he is rich, for I guess, if the 
truth was known, he had a hold of her that no one 
had any right to break. His goin’ there so much 
has not been for nothin’, every body sez. Besides 
that they ’ve been tellin’ me that Sophia Brown has 
got to be a book-writer. Every body is talkin’ 
about it and sez they: ‘We don’t wonder she 
manifests such self-possession,’ and sez I to them, 
‘why, no, if she is a book-writer, then she does 
possess somethin’.’ ” 

In spite of Sophia’s forcible will to overcome 
Aunt Trichie’s declarations, the thread was long 
spun, and it webbed around her to so great a degree, 
that she was obliged to lay down her pen for fur- 


8o 


The Starless Crown. 


ther consideration. She dwelt upon the unexpected 
engagement between Dr. Green and Maria Starkey 
until she became wearied and perplexed. She had 
had no other thought than that Maria was to be 
Mrs. L. ,H. Benjamin, unless she could interpose, 
which had previously been her decided determina- 
tion to do. The thread was too long and too tangled 
for her to straighten. In the midst of busy thought, 
as she sat twisting the fringes that bordered the 
drapery of her dress, she was summoned to meet 
one of those ladies to whorn she could justly be 
termed an opponent. 

‘Gt has been suggested,” said the lady, ‘‘that 
if you are not willing to ride with a few, of whom 
I am one, to Castle Hill, there are those of us who 
will organize a singing school here in our own town. 
It has been thought best to consult you, and have 
your opinion. We are willing to do either way.” 

The question had in it a puzzle, and without delay 
Sophia replied “that her arrangements were made.” 

Sophia believed it unadvisable to unfold the unin- 
telligible town gossip to Tom. She had a fear and 
dread of Saul. For a while she battled with reason, 
but the more she tried to comprehend, the deeper she 
fell into a whirlpool of confusion. As she was not 
able to control her ideas to write, she prepared her- 
self for a walk, with the intention of calling at the 
office if she could find Saul alone. It so happened 
they met a few steps from the office door. Upon 
her face was a dull sad look, that denoted sorrow. 
Saul cheerfully smiled, took her hand and asked her 
to walk in. 

“Are you alone, Saul.^” asked Sophia. 

“At present. Are you well to-day he inquired. 


Sophia at Saul’s Office. 


8i 


‘‘I am heart-sick,” was her reply, ‘‘I should like 
to tell you, but I have a fear and dread of you.” 

“Fear and dread of me! Have I not told you that 
I am your most reliable friend. One you can trust 
the deepest secret your heart can hold. What is it.^ 
Let me hear.” 

With fast falling tears, and faltering expression, 
she in time related the town stories, the puzzling 
proposition, and by whom orignated. 

“Now, Sophia, allow me to say that nine-tenths 
of all you hear is falsified. As it regards Aunt 
Trichie, she is, I should judge, a peculiar old body, 
and seems to possess an irresistible influence. Whilst 
I would not prejudice your mind against her, I would 
not, if I were you, place too much dependence on 
what she gathers up in the town. So far as this 
Dr. Green is concerned, I do not believe there is one 
in the town who had ever seen or heard of him 
before his arrival on Thursday last. The idea of a 
hasty engagement between him and Maria is a base 
falsehood. In regard to a singing school being 
organized here, to my mind it is doubtful. You see, 
Sophia, there is altogether too much enmity, too 
much of the root of bitterness that will not coincide 
with right and reason, consequent!}’ there are erup- 
tions which take place, and as you are one of those 
who will offend, you must expect to endure your 
share of offenses. You recollect you were unyield- 
ing and would not consent to ride with others, some 
at least of whom are excellent ladies. It was with- 
out doubt viewed in a light to suit themselves, and 
threw over you a blaze of indignation; in return 
they would try to harrass and vex as a just revenge. 
You know, Sophia, just what I think of such things, 


83 


The Starless Crowx. 


and to avoid them they must be void within our- 
selves. Your becoming misrepresented as a literary 
character has become rumored about. In what way 
I am not positively prepared to say, but am of the 
opinion through the short-sightedness of your parents 
who have but a limited idea of learning and litera- 
ture, but an over-rated estimation of your capacity, 
which is sufficiently well, according to the common 
standard of intellect, and if you were wisely educated 
to execute the knowledge you have, would deserve 
honor and would obtain it, should you dispense with 
those idle ills so imbibed in your nature. Then 3^our 
enjoyments would be many, and your life would 
become a pleasing remembrance. Time with me is 
limited, but I must speak of Father Benjamin, that 
venerable old gentleman who has passed his three- 
score and ten years. To be referred to and spoken of 
as a buoyant beau is one of the actual sins of your life. 
It is said the whole story has orginated from you, 
and has become a wide-spread report. So far as I 
am able to judge, I am led to think it false. At 
all events I give it no credence, it is not worth a sin- 
^gle thought, much less to gabble about. Should it 
be his wish to marr}^ again, it is his privilege, as 
much so as any man; and to marry whoever he 
pleases, who may be pleased with him. And I am 
willing to leave the old gentleman to his own wish 
to do as wisdom directs.” 

‘‘Well, Saul, you always see wrongs enough in me 
to hang me, were they put in execution.” 

“But how can I help seeing wrongs.^ You say 
Maria is trying to win the heart of Father Benjamin 
for the sake of his vast amount of property, and 
circulate it as a known truth. Is such commendable ? 


Words Fitly Spoken. 


83 


Far from it. Had you any just reason to have 
suspected a thing of the kind, you should have 
kept it to yourself. . But you are a careless thinker, 
and speak without due consideration. In this way 
you do yourself an injustice which the community 
will not pass unnoticed. The one thing more I 
wish to turn your attention to is, false and true love. 
False love has an offensive core, it is rotten, whilst 
true love has its Smlume in a word, an ocean in a 
tear.’ There is a wide difference, you see between 
the two — true and false — and it is this difference 
that I wish you to weigh well in your mind. 
You have gotten possession of one of the best hearts 
in Copperville. That is evidently true. There is 
not another one I more highly prize than Mr. Harri- 
son; he is a noble fellow; his deportment is fine; 
his intellectual capacity good. He is strictly honest, 
well to do, but as 3^ou remark, ‘he is nothing but a 
gardener.’ Could you but see, you would then know 
it would be better to be the wife of an honest gar- 
dener, than that of a dishonest practitioner, no matter 
what their profession might be. There are scores 
of professional men who do not amount to a feather’s 
weight, but are well calculated to deceive and mis- 
lead. I do not wish you to marry one you do not 
love, but I do not want you to falsify. Do not make of 
Mr. Harrison your pack-horse. If you cannot appre- 
ciate as you are appreciated, make no pretense. As 
I have told you before, be truthful in all you say and 
do. Strive to do well. Do good as you have 
opportunity. Seek peace and pursue it, and that 
dull sad look upon your face, so frequently seen, 
will fade away and the pure sunshine of hope, and 
happiness will take its place.” 


84 


The Starless Crown. 


CHAPTER XI. 


When Sophia felt she had received all the advice 
and reproof she cared for, she took the walk home- 
ward, leaving Saul with quite as heavy a heart as she 
had herself previously borne. She was of the opinion 
that there was a reality in having a singing school 
organized, and why. She had an idea of her own 
who the instructor would be. And the truth of Dr. 
Green marrying Maria was a thing she meant to 
know. 

With her head and heart full of beliefs, she betook 
herself to the pen, again being more forcibly in- 
spired with writing than before. The remainder of 
the day was a success to her, so much so that her 
face was lit up with a sweet smile which greatly 
attracted the attention of her parents. 

“Why, Sophia,” said Aunt Sabrina as she entered 
the dining room, “you look almost radiant, I do 
feel glad to see you so happy. What is it about 
Your book.^” 

‘‘In part, I suppose,” said Sophia, and raising her 
hand westward, said, “does not that look like a 
snow bank yonder?” 

“Yes it does,” responded Mr. Brown, “ I think we 
shall have snow before mornin’.” 

The thought of sledding by Friday evening, at 
this time hlled Sophia’s heart with great glee, as 
was shown by her attempt to sing the old familiar 


Discussion of Dr. Green. 


85 


“ Those old sleigh bells, those old sleigh bells, 

How many a tale their jingling tells.” 

‘'Then, Sophie, you raly do feel happy. Well, 
I’m turr’ble glad of it. I expect you will be quite 
a singer by time spring comes.” 

“If I am not a singer, I shall be something else.” 

“Author, I expect it will be,” said Aunt Sabrina. 

“Mother, Saul has a poor opinion of my author- 
ship, but I will show him.” 

“ ’T is n’t best to rely on his opinion always^ Jist 
go right straight ahead and do your own way. 
You ’ll .come out a good deal nearer right than you 
would to be twisted round by him.” 

“Believe me, he has no confidence in Dr. Green’s 
engagement to Maria at all.” 

“I hardly believe that myself, I think she will 
stick to L. II. She likes the looks of his mansion, 
of course.” 

“Sorry she does, I tell 3^011 Green has a charming 
face, and he is professional. If he has stepped in, 
it has put her in a strait between two. I have a 
calculation drawn up in my own mind, that I am 
going to know m3"self alone. I believe I have made 
a good guess. And if I find I have figured things 
out right in regard to the parties here, I will, if possi 
ble be a cloud to them, just see if I am not.” 

At this point, the conversation was interrupted 
by Saul, who had unexpectedl}^ walked in for furthur 
discussion. For a moment his e}^es thoughtfull}' 
rested upon Sophia, after which he expressed sur- 
prise at the brightness of her countenance. “You 
bear, Sophia,” he smilingly said, “the resemblance 
of two distinct characters, ‘Sunshine and Tempest.’” 


86 


The Starless Crown. 


“Why, Saul,” exclaimed Sophia, ‘‘could you not 
have said Sunshine and Shadow as well?” 

“I do not recollect ever having known where 
shadow was used to designate a character,” said 
Saul with great merriment. “You must excuse the 
error, if an error it is, but could you see in yourself 
the change as it is to be seen by me, you would not 
think me out of the way. Remember only a few 
hours ago you were in my office, all in tears, a mixture 
of angry feelings with evil denunciations, so much so 
that I almost wept for you. I could hardly have 
expected you to have been in a worse condition of 
mind had you been in the midst of the sea.” 

“Then I suppose you are excusable if you speak 
of me as ‘Sunshine and Tempest.’ Do you wish me 
to consider your coming in, an exhibition of tender 
regard?” 

“I most assuredly do. I have not been able to 
perform my duties accurately since you left me.” 

“I am very sorry,” said Sophia, “I hope I may 
not find it necessary to disturb you again.” 

“It is to be hoped there ma}' be no occasion, and 
if you accept my counsel there will not be. But 
should there be, and my advice and opinion can in 
any way benefit you, I shall be glad to give it.” 

By this time there was a great amount of irritation 
on the part of Aunt Sabrina, and as Saul passed out 
of the side door to the walk again, she made a 
few remarks, such as we will not mention. Sophia 
remembered her agitation of mind and said “Mother, 
I really was in a ruffle, that was so; and you know 
Saul is so serious, he talked and admonished me 
according to his views, and I came home feeling 
better. To listen to him when he is really in earnest, 


The Singing Schooe. 87, 

is like ‘bread to the eater.’ Since then what a 
blessed portion I have been able to lay away.” 

“Well,” said Aunt Sabrina, “it ’s great thing to 
be able to treasure up usefulness. I expect it will 
out-live us all. I have heard ministers say, ‘good 
deeds never die,’ so I don’t expect good writin’s 
will any more.” 

As Aunt Trichie had appeared in sight, Sophia 
tripped away, and began to prepare for Friday 
evening. . 

Mr. Brown was not mistaken in his belief, that 
snow would .fall before morning. It came, a tre- 
mendous snow storm, which lasted nearly a whole 
week, with wind and heavy drifts. 

To be detained was in no way disheartening to 
Sophia. The deeper the snow and larger the drifts 
the better she was pleased. She was perfectly willing 
to await for the longed-for anticipated sleigh ride. 

Two weeks passed away with but little of import- 
ance beyond those hours spent in soliloquizing which 
are essential to all who engage in literary pursuits- 
When the second evening came for a sleigh ride 
it was a great success. It is hardly possible to sup- 
pose any one could have enjoyed more. Several 
successive evenings brought to Sophia the same sat- 
isfaction, until she became more than ever egotistical- 
There were a few in and near Castle Hill who could 
brave and dare equal with herself, and to those she 
disclosed her determination to upset Maria and spoil 
the mutuality between her and L. H. Benjamin. 
It so happened that there was to be a vocalist at the 
hall in a few evenings, and it was thought, perhaps, 
that would be the time for them to accomplish their 
design. It proved a successful opportunity with an 


88 


The vStarless Crown. 


unsuccessful termination. When the evening came, 
Sophia, with her few friends, had managed to get 
themselves seated directly behind Mr. Benjamin, 
who wished to hear all that was interesting, but his 
attention was greatly disturbed by the girls, whose 
gabble was of a disagreeable nature. 

As Mr. Benjamin could not govern his mind to 
hear that which was interesting in consequence of 
their disturbance, and after hearing his own name 
spoken, also Maria’s, with such undue magnitude 
of dishonor, and when he felt he could endure no 
more, he arose and eonfronted them squarely, and 
after a short pause, with a stern look of indigna- 
tion, he interrupted them by saying: “Then you are 
here for diseomtiture, are you.^ Such can justl}’ be 
compared to those who sow the wind, as we are told; 
those who do must reap the whirlwind.” 

These words, as they slowly fell from the lips of 
that venerable old gentleman, touched every heart, 
and all eyes were turned towards the intruders. It 
was a sad saying for Sophia to listen to when she 
was ealled to order, and asked to take a back seat. 
Poor girl, how little she gained by her attempt to 
inflict wounds into the heart of one so trul}^ amiable 
as Maria — naught but shame, we cannot sa}’ remorse 
from a lack of conscientiousness. It was her wish 
to hurt Maria. She was not sorry to do the wrong, 
only felt regret at her failure in the attempt. 

When the interruption reached the ear of Mr. Har- 
rison it fllled his heart with deepest grief. As soon 
as an opportunity presented itself, he sought Sophia 
and suggested a return home. He found her ready 
and willing to go without delay, and ver}’ cautiously 
said in his ear: “let ’s recede.” 


Bitter Fruit. 


89 


‘‘All right,” was the reply. 

A few minutes later and they were seen riding 
away. 

“Then Sophie, you say, ‘let’s recede,’ do 3^011.” 

“Yes I do, I will never go to Castle Hill again. 
Benjamin is an old h^/pocrite,” to which Tom made 
no repl3\ 

As the runners swiftl}- slid over the beaten track, 
he amused himself b}- pla3dng with his whip, some- 
times lashing the snow heaps, then again snapping 
the cracker, whilst a dull, sad look settled upon his 
face, apparentl}^ in deep thought. 

“Tom,” said Sophia, “what are 3'ou thinking 
about? You haven’t spoken but once since we left 
the hall.” 

“My mother taught me to think twice, and speak 
once,” was the repl}\ And forthwith sang out 
melodiousl}' : . 

“ O tall queenly nights to eternity’s haze, 

• You have followed your short little husbands of days.” 

“Then 3^ou do feel this is to be the last time, do 
you?” 

“I take you at 3’our word,” said Tom, followed 
b}" a pause. After which he remarked that, “ he did 
not feel willing to suffer total deprivation. “ It is 
possible,” he continued, “that we may be able to 
have an instructor in our home town. It has been 
spoken of, and I have been solicited to sign and 
attend.” 

“Do you know who they think of having for 
teacher.” 

“I do not positively, but my opinion is that it is 
this Dr. Green. He seemed to make quite an 


90 


The Starless Crown. 


impression. If I am not mistaken a few, two at 
least, became perfectly enamored.” 

‘‘Yes, Maria for one.” 

“No, indeed, you are mistaken. She did not see 
him. She was not in town during his stay here.” 

“Tom, do you know that to be so.^” 

“ I certainly do. It was a false report gotten up 
for the sake of a drive on the few who did see him, 
and apparently became completely fascinated by 
him.”' 

“Who are the few who wish a school organized.^ 
Is Sue Hatting one.^” 

“I believe she is, and without doubt could they 
get Saul’s influence it would be a success.” 

It took Sophia but a moment to think, and she 
was prepared to say, “I will tell him to do his best, 
it might be a nice thing,” with a plan in her own 
mind which she did not openly express. 

“Then would you favor the motion? Would you 
be one to attend?” asked Tom. 

“ Perhaps, yes, more than likeN,” was her reply. 

After a good hearty laugh he added, ‘‘When you 
all shall have gotten together in one heap you will 
be like so many cats.” 

“I did not say I would go for instruction, but 
just for fun, and be in the way of those who would 
not wish to see me there.” 

“ Soph,” said Tom, “you make yourself the most 
indelible of any mortal I ever saw.” 

“That is just what I like to be, and do,” said 
Sophia with glee, “make marks that won’t bleach 
out. Are you marked, Tom?” 

“Bless you, yes, long ago,” was his swift reply 
as he reined the horse up to the post. 


Making Plans. 


91 


CHAPTER XII. 


As soon as Sophia had reached home she was 
made happy by finding a fire had been kindled in 
her room, where she could spend an hour alone in 
sweet retirement. She looked over the past with 
regret. She was sorry she had said recede. She 
believed it would be real on the part of Tom, for 
she was sure he did not feel pleased with her inter- 
meddling with L. H. Benjamin, but as she had said 
recede, and much more, she knew she had over- 
thrown those pleasureable sleigh-rides she so much 
delighted in, hei'self, and had no one to blame but 
herself. She was in all probability exceedingly 
sorry that anything should have happened to spoil 
their plans, and defeat their arrangement, but what 
she had said was said, and her proud heart would 
not swerve. With a rather sublime style she arose, 
walked to the table, picked up her pen and wrote 
as follows: “ There are flowers on either side of the 
path of life. I will weave the mishaps of to-day into 
a garland that will serve as a girdle for to-morrow.” 

The sentences as they flowed from her pen 
afforded the satisfaction she felt she needed, and at 
once becoming more buoyant in spirit began to 
devise some way in which she should approach 
Saul. She knew the necessity of being cautious, as 
he was far seeing, and she did not wish him to think 
her one of Dr. Green’s fascinated friends, for fear he 
would oppose him. 


\ 


92 


The Starless Crown. 


The next morning was delightful. The sun had 
risen in splendor, and the snow sparkled in its rays. 
The atmosphere was mild and lovely, and as far as 
the eye could reach was seen the matchless wisdom 
of Him who builded up the hills and carved out the 
valleys, who had planted the vine, the tall oak and 
drooping willow, and arranged and beautified this 
broad earth for the abode of man by the vastness of 
His creative power. 

“How everything in nature seems to smile this 
morning,” said Sophia, as she looked abroad through 
the window, just before being seated at the break- 
fast table. 

“Yes,” replied Saul, “we rarely see a more lovely 
winter morning. Everything wears a charm. Should 
it continue the sledding will soon be spoiled, that 
would cast a blur over your enjoyment, I suppose.” 

“O yes, but then, when one way is closed another 
will always open; I am not so particularly fond of 
vocal music, I go for the pleasure of going. I sup- 
pose there is some prospect of having a school 
organized here. Tom spoke of it as true last eve- 
ning. I think he is quite in favor of it; are you 
Saul.^” 

“It is a matter of indifference. I should not exert 
an influence either way.” 

“I am most afraid you will offend if 3'OU do not 
coincide. You are always so much in favor of pleas- 
ing, that some of our ladies have great confidence 
in \^ou, and prefer to select you as chief leader in 
consequence of the general faculty you have for 
making an effort a success,” said Sophia. 

“Much would depend upon the circumstances. I 
had formed no definite conclusion in regard to the 


Saul’s Opposition. 


93 


little I had heard about it, and that little was coupled 
with confusion, and such I have no appetite for. It 
was for these reasons that I have not expressed my 
opinion, as associated with any in the plan. Could 
it be so arranged as to have it agreeable and bene- 
ficial I should be pleased.” 

‘‘Did you learn who they thought of having for 
teacher.^” asked Sophia. 

“I did not learn from those who called at my 
office. From outside gossip I have heard this Dr. 
Green spoken of as the man in view. Should it be 
true, and I have anything to say, I shall oppose him.” 

“Why so?” said Sophia. 

“It would be altogether better to have some knowl- 
edge of the one employed. Dr. Green is a stranger. 
I judge him very egotistical. He has what is called 
a handsome face, but by close investigation his resem- 
blance is not so pleasing. Rather chaffy, Sophia. 
According to my mind he lacks eloquence of beauty.” 

Saul’s views and expressions in regard to Dr. Green 
were exasperating to Sophia. Not feeling at liberty 
to argue with Saul, and too full to retain her feelings, 
she passed back to where her mother was engaged. 
In her haste she failed to notice the door did not 
fasten, but fell open behind her, which afforded Saul 
the privilege of hearing distinctly. 

“Mother,” said she, “believe me, Saul is down 
on Dr. Green. He is not pleased with him, hand- 
some as he is, and no doubt good.” 

“I dar’st to say,” responded Aunt Sabrina. “If 
he was only a preacher, or some sich, he ’d be dread- 
ful nice. I have heard Aunt Trichie say Dr. Green 
is bein’ talked about all over this town, and everybody 
likes him. They say he is so smilingly beautiful.” 


94 


The Stareess Crown. 


At which Saul picked up his hat, advanced a few 
steps nearer the open door and added: “I am not 
particular to either defend or oppose, but will simply 
say to you that which has been before said: 

“ ‘ Many a fair skin hath covered a ruining disease, 

And many a laughing cheek been bright with the glare of madness.’ ” 

As soon as the last sentence fell from his lips, he 
walked rapidly away, leaving mother and daughter 
to their own infatuation. It so happened that just 
at that moment there was a special demand upon 
Aunt Sabrina, which deprived her of the privilege 
of interrogating. She, therefore, briefly expressed 
her mind in few words very unbecomingly, after 
which Sophia returned to her room to enjoy a season 
of self-conceited composure. Some days passed with 
an extreme quiet, which was too good for long con- 
tinuance. Sophia began to feel ruffled, and suspicious 
that something might occur without her knowledge, 
and it was necessary that she should be on the look- 
out in order to know what was being transacted in 
the town. That thought had no sooner taken pos- 
session of her mind, than she decided to tastefully 
equip herself, which she did, and with an air of 
importance, she took the street toward the business 
part of the town just in time to see a small collection 
of ladies as they were about to enter the town hall. 

“There,” she said to herself, ‘4 am in the very 
nick of time. Their effort for a singing school is 
now under way,” and after a little delay in order 
to have them get well engaged in the plan of organ- 
ization, she lightly walked in among them, with a 
queen-like deportment, which suggested an ideal of 
triumph, and independently took a seat. 


The Afternoon Meeting. 


95 


There were several gentlemen present, of whom 
Dr. Green 'was one. The hours passed swiftly by, 
but the effort was slow in progress. It was manifest 
that there was a disunion between the parties, which, 
though unnamed, seemed to increase rather than 
diminish. 

It was noticed that Dr. Green’s eyes turned too 
frequently and attentively towards Sophia to give 
due satisfaction to those who had a heart to win 
him themselves. 

As it became more and more obvious that the 
disunion had in it a theory. Dr. Green expressed his 
opinion that it would be better to postpone the 
organization until some future time, which was at 
once seconded, and the delegation dispersed. 

It is hardly possible to express Sophia’s delight. 
She understood perfectly well that her guessing had 
not been far out of the way, and she had the satis- 
faction of believing she had been to the parties 
exactly what she had said she would, if possible, 
^‘a cloud,” and walked home exceedingly happy. 

Immediately after the delegation had left the hall. 
Dr. Green and one other, with whom he had become 
acquainted, tarried in the first hall, on the steps 
leading to the street. ‘‘ Excuse my inquisitiveness,” 
said the Doctor. 

^‘Certainly,” was the reply. 

Who was that beautiful looking lady who walked 
in so gracefully, rather late, and sat alone off to the 
right 

“That was Miss Sophia Brown.” 

“Does she reside in Copperville ” asked the 
Doctor. 

“She does.” 


96 


The Starless Crown. 


^‘In what part of the town?” 

‘‘Have you not noticed that beautiful location as 
you turn off the main street,” raising his hand and 
pointing eastward; “Mr. Brown joins that on the 
south. I suppose it was on Sophia’s account that 
there was a failure this afternoon.” 

“ Is it possible!” said the Doctor. “What seems 
to be the trouble?” 

“I am not fully prepared to say. I never had any 
acquaintance with Sophia. I know her when I see 
her, and know of her. There seems to have arisen a 
very poignant feeling between her and a few others, 
each trying to usurp power over the other. It was 
suspicioned that she had some special motive in view 
by coming in, which was irritating to her opponents^ 
and they would sooner fail in their effort to organize 
a school, than have her presence with them.” 

“Is she wicked?” asked the Doctor. 

“I should think not. At least she has the exclu- 
sive attention of Mr. Harrison, one of the best fellows 
in Copperville. I have heard it said of late that she 
is literary, and is now engaged on a work that will 
lead to popularity.” 

Much surprised, the Doctor raised his right hand 
high for a moment, then brought it down firml}^ on 
one knee exclaiming: “That’s it! Now I under- 
stand it. Her superiority is envied without doubt. 
Troubles do many times spring from the root of 
jealousy.” 

At this point in their conversation, the Doctor was 
more than ready to drop the subject, and return with 
his newly made friend to the walk, where they in a 
short time parted. 

It was trul}^ so, that Sophia had deeply impressed 


Dr. Green’s Dream. 


97 


the mind of the Doctor. He had looked upon her 
with admiration, and after having been told that she 
was literary, there was nothing more needed to sub- 
stantiate him in her behalf. After returning to his 
room, just as the sun was sinking in the west, his 
mind became more exuberant; and as his memory 
traveled back over the past, he remembered so dis- 
tinctly the look of her Hir face, graceful form, and 
noble deportment, that his ability to retain himself 
became almost unabiding. Forgetting himself, ere 
he was aware the twilight hour had passed, and 
the dark curtain of night was hanging over him. 
Still, to forget was all in vain. The name of Sophia 
closely lingered in his mind ; and in the midst of busy 
thought, he threw himself upon a couch, where unex- 
pectedly he lost himself “in tired nature’s sweet 
restorer, balmy sleep.” But the name and form of 
her who lingered on his lips and brain followed 
him to the land of dreams. 

’T is strange to say, that happily, as if in some 
new world afar, some undescribed land, they seemed 
to meet as though they oft had met, and love as 
though they long had loved, and locking arm in arm 
they wended their way through flowery forest fields, 
freshened with evening dew. The moon sent forth 
her silvery light, and brightly shone the stars. The 
air was mild and clover-scented, and in ecstasy of 
thought they talked to each other flatteringly, soft 
and low, as lovers talk, and watched their shadows 
on the green. 

How far and wide their ramblings were could not 
be told, but from the flowery field, and shady garden 
bowers, unto a limpid brook they strayed, and there 
in token of remembrance left their names in pebble 


7 


98 


The Starless Crown. 


type upon the beach. It was a work of art wrought 
with exquisite taste, to which she said : “ How beau- 

tiful!” More beautiful by far,” said he, ‘‘they’d 
be, had both been welded into one.” 

The scenery was magnificent, and all around them, 
whichever way they went, were divers pleasures, 
each one having in itself some newly fresh born 
beauty, before unknown to them, and love and happi- 
ness had equal sway until beyond conception, became 
embodied those excessive raptures of delight, and 
lo! it was one blissful, harmonious paradise. 

At length the enraptured scene convulsed his brain 
and broke the midnight slumber. As wakefulness 
returned, the ecstatic vision drifted away, and con- 
sciousness revealed to him the sad truth that he had 
taken but a short trip in the land of dreams. 


A Present to Saue. 


99 


CHAPTER XIII. 


‘‘How sweet and lovely those are,” said Mrs. 
Starky, as her husband was about to enter the sitting 
room with a few specimens of plants from the green- 
house, one of which was a bridal rose in bloom. 

“Yes, indeed, they are lovely, and the thought 
occurred to me, as I was looking at them with admi- 
ration, that perhaps Saul would be pleased to have 
a few nice plants in his office window, especially this 
bridal rose.” 

“Very true,” said Mrs. Starky, “I have no doubt 
they would please him. I should be glad to have 
him have them. Plants bear a friendl}' resemblance, 
and almost seem like society to those who have a 
taste for them.” 

With a warm heart and cheerful smile upon his 
countenance, Mr. Starky deliberate!}^ walked to the 
office, where he found Saul busily engaged in the 
business of life, and without hesitation presented him 
the plants, which were thankfully received. 

“They are to me a happy surprise,” said Saul. 
“I am a great lover of plants and flowers, both wild 
and tame. I do not know but I could justly be 
termed peculiar 'in regard to such things. At all 
events it was always natural for me to love all 
that God has made, especially the delicate rose, pink, 
lily, violet, etc.” 

“Yes,” said Mr. Starky, “I am pleased to hear 
you express yourself in that way. I, too, have always 


oo 


The Starless Crown. 


looked upon the handiwork of our Creator with 
admiration. To look upon His work in that light 
we cannot fail to love Him. If we love Him, we 
will worship Him. Our endeavors will be to pro- 
mote his cause and kingdom on the earth. To labor 
for so high a cause as that of Christ’s, yields the 
peaceable fruits of righteousness, which are love, 
joy, peace. If we have these, we have his spirit, 
we have happiness, and our own happiness no one 
can take awa}^ ‘As a vase filled with the most 
beautiful flowers, so is a heart when filled with the 
fruits of the spirit.’ ” 

“ I enjo}^ every word as it falls from your lips, 
Mr. Starky. There is mutuality between us, I am 
glad to know there are a few who do appreciate the 
works and wisdom of God. It is not my wish to 
pass sentence upon any, but I have felt sorrowfully 
surprised at the barrenness, unfruitfulness, as well as 
the scarcity of Christians since coming into Copper- 
ville. To take a general view, we are at once pre- 
pared to say, ‘Behold all is vanity.’” 

“That is very true. There are but few who 
think it worth while to work in their Master’s Vine- 
yard. Of the few, when we assemble together there 
is such a space between each one, that it almost 
chills me at times, and I am reminded of a venerable 
old soldier of the Cross who once felt hurt at the 
distance between the servants of Christ at a prayer 
meeting and arose and said, ‘dear brederen, if you 
were going to build a good warm fire, you would 
not put one little skindling here, and another skind- 
ling off there, but you would put all your little skind- 
lings up close together, for according to the strength 
of the fire, the warmth increases; and it is just so 


Plans for a Revival. 


lOI 


with us, we need to get close that we may each feel 
the warmth from the fire that kindles upon the altar 
of our hearts.’ It was my principal object in 
calling on you this morning; I wished to consult you, 
and have your opinion in regard to our having union 
meetings. By making a prayerful effort, see if good 
cannot be done. W e have the promise, for He has 
said, ‘Bring ye all the tithes into the store-house 
that there may be meat in mine house, and prove 
me now herewith, saith the Lord of hosts, if I will 
not open you the windows of heaven, and pour you 
out a blessing, that there shall not be room enough 
to receive it.’” 

“I agree with you, Mr. Starky, I am ready for 
the work. There is nothing that could afford me 
more pleasure.” 

Said Mr. Starky, “Since we both agree in this 
matter, I shall feel at liberty to extend a general 
invitation to assemble at our church to-morrow eve- 
ning to commence a series of meetings, which we 
hope through the blessing of God may be the means 
of turning many from darkness to light, and from 
the power of Satan unto God. And I trust that ‘the 
weapons of our warfare are not of the flesh, but mighty 
before God to the casting down of strongholds.’” 

“I have perfect confidence,” said Saul, “that good 
will prevail, and I shall be glad to know you have 
made a beginning.- I will be your fellow helper, and 
I trust there may be many ready to stay up your 
hands.” 

Mr. Starky was exceedingly happy, and was about 
to take his leave of Saul, when Aunt Trichie made 
her appearance with a little bundle of papers for 
Saul’s inspection. 


102 


The Starless Crown. 


“Well, Aunt Trichie, we are happy to see you this 
morning,” said Mr. Starky, ‘‘we feel the time to 
favor Zion may have come, and we have decided to 
commence a series of meetings. May we not expect 
you to be one with us?” 

“ Why, 3^es, I expect you may, I ’m alwa}^s 
droppin’ in.” 

“ But will }^ou not engage with us in the service 
and become a good hearty worker ? What we want 
is to build up the church of Christ and demolish the 
synagogue of Satan.” 

“ I don’t know how much I can do, I am alwa^^s 
tryin’. I do everybody all the good I can, and when 
I see anybody doin’ a thing that’s wrong I alwa\’s 
step right up and tell them that isn’t right, and that 
they’d better be mendin’ their ways.” 

“ That is all very good,” said Mr. Starky, “but we 
want you should meet with us, and tell to the world 
what the Lord has done for 3’ou, and strive for the 
conversion of others. This is a broad held. Aunt 
Trichie. I am now going out to make our intentions 
known and shall expect your inhuence.” 

“All right, that is so, Mr. Starky, 3^011 ma3^ expect 
it, for I will tell everybod3' I see, and there ’s no 
no tellin’ what ma3' come from it. If a good lot of 
us should once get started, and all draw together, 
‘draw just like good old Pharaoh’s chariot horses,’ 
as an old colored man said one time, we’d mebbe 
do a good thing. I tell you if some of them here 
should get religion like 3’ours, Mr. Stark3^, the3^ 
wouldn’t seem anyway nateral. But I am in a 
huny,” she added, “I must tell Saul a word or two 
and be goin’,” and at once began to make her 
wants and wishes known in such a way as was well 


Aunt Trichie a Helper. 


103 

calculated to produce a week of perpetual wake- 
fulness. 

Mr. Starky preceded Aunt Trichie but a few 
steps on the walk. He had purposed to call on 
Brothers Steadfast and Standhope, and be back at 
the office prior to the dinner hour. Unfortunately 
for him, he did not find either one of them at home, 
consequently he happened on the walk, near to 
where he saw Aunt Trichie, and as he drew close 
could not battle with himself sufficiently well to 
choke back the laughter, and rather than show mer- 
riment for fear of being what might be termed a 
stumbling stone, he left the main walk for the alley 
which led directly to Saul’s office. 

Saul was surprised to see him return so soon, and 
as the expression of his countenance denoted pleasure, 
said, ‘‘You must have been very fortunate this morn- 
ing, have you not.^” 

Mr. Starky, heartily laughing, said, ‘T can’t hold 
any longer,” after which Saul was made acquainted 
with Aunt Trichie’s solicitation on the public street. 
She had accosted Judge Jones by saying, “‘See here, 
Mr. Starky and Saul have got on their high horses, 
and they’re goin’ to have evenin’ meetin’s. Coin’ 
to commence tO-morrow evenin’, and we want you 
all to be there, for now is the time to set yourself a 
thinkin’, and not keep all your treasure in earthen 
vessels.’ Believe me, she succeeded in getting his 
promise to be at the church. Beside that, she has 
been in those shops in Tinson’s block in this little 
space of time, with all she was in so much of a 
hurry.” 

“ I presume she will visit every family, office and 
workshop in Copperville between this and to-morrow 


The Starless Crown. 


104 

evening,” said Saul, “for I take her for a very 
bus}'’ body.” 

“Should she be the means of bringing many in, 
she will have done worthily, for we are told that, 
^ belief cometh of hearing, and hearing by the word 
of Christ.’ ” 

By this time Saul was obliged to ask to be excused, 
as public business demanded his immediate atten- 
tion, and he was under obligations to turn his mind 
to it. 

“I am aware,” said Mr. Starky, “that I have 
trespassed, but it was not my intention; I had wished 
to be here in time to take you home with me to din- 
ner and show you the different species of plants in 
the greenhouse now in bloom. I will leave you for 
the present, and if you will permit me, I will call 
again in time to accompany you to dinner. It would 
afford us pleasure to have you.” 

Saul thankfully accepted the invitation, and the 
arrangement was agreed to. At the hour appointed 
they were seen on the walk, arm in arm, with quick 
steps and cheerful faces, when much to their surprise 
they heard a voice say, “there goes some of God’s 
nobility.” Without changing their steps they hast- 
ened on, congratulating each other as they went, that 
“they were counted worthy to suffer dishonor for 
the name.” 

After having reached the house, and they had 
been for a few minutes seated in the study, Mrs. 
Starky came to the door, saying, they had been 
unfortunate in not having the dinner ready in due 
time, and asked if they could be excused. 

“Certainly,” said Mr. Starky, then turning to 
Saul, said, “Perhaps we had better take the advan- 


Bringing Good Tidings. 


105 

tage of going to the greenhouse before dinner, ” which 
was quite as pleasing to Saul. 

They at once took their hats, Mr. Starky leading 
the way through the dining room and put on the 
veranda, where Saul’s observing eye saw Maria 
standing at an open window, paring potatoes. 

‘‘Then you take part in domestic duties, do you. 
Miss Maria said Saul as he halted for a moment. 

“ Certainly, ” was her reply, “I am learning the 
art of cooking.” 

“I am pleased to know it. To understand the 
art of cooking is very commendable,” continued Saul. 

The gentlemen had no sooner returned from 
the greenhouse, where they had spent a few min- 
utes viewing the admirable beauties of nature, and 
were seated at the dinner table, when the bell rung, 
and Aunt Trichie was there, tired and almost breath- 
less. 

“I have hurried as fast as I could,” she said, “and 
now I have only jist dropped in to tell you I have 
been tellin’ and talkin’ to everybody I see all round 
here. Then I ’ve been over the river to the places 
there, and you know they’re purty hard over there, 
but sez I to them, the time has come when you’d 
better be tendin’ to 3^our soul’s salvation. It may 
be, sez I, if you wait a little longer it will be waitin’ 
too long, and so I kept on talking to them the best I 
could, and bimeby, after a while, they promised me 
they’d be over. If all gets there that has told me 
they would, there’ll be a full house I tell you.” 

Said Mrs. Starky, “We do indeed feel thankful 
to you. Aunt Trichie. It can be said of 3’ou, in your 
behalf, that you went ‘out into the highways and 
hedges and constrained them to come in that m3’ 


o6 


The Starless Crown. 


house may be hlled.’ Will you not have some dinner 
with us.^” 

“No, I thank you, Mrs. Starky, I must be gettin’ 
round home. I have lots to get done between this 
and to-morrow evenin’,’’ and with the word good- 
bye, she left. 

“Her solicitude is wonderful,” said Saul. 

“Yes,” said Mrs. Starky, “it reminds me of the 
passage where it reads, ‘ God chose the foolish 
things of the world that he might put to shame 
the things that are wise, and the weak things of the 
world that he might put to shame the things that 
are strong.’ ” 

“I feel encouraged,” said Mr. Starky, ,“and have 
faith, so that all that remains is to go forward. I 
will make an effort to see a few families in the coun- 
try this afternoon. Could you accompany me, 
Saul?” 

“I should be glad to, but there are items of 
importance for me to attend to. To be truthful I 
sometimes feel the necessity of being a two-faced 
man.” 

“In my opinion,” said Maria, “you were not cal- 
culated for a lawyer; you should have been a min- 
ister.” 

“I am on the side of Christ, but never felt called 
to preach the gospel ; I do not think it right for any to 
enter the ministry short of understanding the call 
distinctly, ‘woe is unto me if I preach not the gos-. 
pel’ It is necessary that we have pious lawyers, 
and whilst I practice one profession, shall hold fast 
to the other. With many thanks I must bid you 
good-day.” 


The First Meeting. 


107 


CHAPTER XIV. 


It was gratifying beyond expression when the 
appointed evening came, to those who had taken a 
decided interest in having a series of meetings, to 
see a large congregation assemble at the church in 
due season. 

Rev. Bro. Standhope spoke from the words, ‘‘Pre- 
pare to meet thy God.” He held the attention of 
the audience for nearly an hour, and as was manifestly 
shown, the words spoken reached the hearing ear, 
and the hearer’s heart. After which were exhorta- 
tions by Messrs Steadfast, Starky, Saul and others. 

An invitation was then given to those who might 
feel a desire to put on Christ, to manifest it by com- 
ing forward to the front seats vacated for them, if 
any such there were. Mr. Flarrison was the first. 
Judge Jones the second, immediately after several 
others followed. 

When the privilege was given for any to speak 
if they wished. Judge Jones arose and said, “I do 
not fully understand myself, or why I take thisstand. 
I am what is termed a man of the world ; I had not 
at any time given thought beyond the business of 
this life. I know well there is a beyond. I know 
that all must die, and that I one day shall, but had 
not regarded it as a thing of moment. Yesterday 
I was accosted by Aunt Trichie, that is the name 
by which she is known. She told me meetings 
were to be held, and that, ‘now was the time forme 


The Starless Crown. 


loS 

to think, and not keep my treasure in earthen ves- 
sels.’ Though her words were simple in their mean- 
ing; they took possession of me. They have brought 
me here, I have not in myself the power to out-weigh 
them.” Bursting into a flood of tears he sat down. 

Mr. Harrison accepted the second opportunity, and 
spoke in language impressive and sincere. After 
which, an old lad}^ from the confines of the town 
arose and related Aunt Trichie’s call and earnest 
pleading to have her attend the meetings. She 
confessed she had not been inside of a church for 
many years, and though she promised to be over she 
had no desire, and that it was a wonder to her what 
any one went for, but she s’posed it was to get good. 
‘‘So now I’m come,” said she, “to see if good can 
come to me.” 

Mr. Starky arose and told her, “There was great 
good to be gained by coming. It will be our aim to 
do you good; to be instrumental in the hand of God^ 
in bringing you to the knowledge of Him who is able 
to save and crown you with everlasting good.” 

A few others made remarks tender and touching, 
and at a late hour, nearly all, if not quite, left for 
their several places, feeling benefited, and that it 
was good for them that they had been there. 

Could we but lift the curtain that covers the invis- 
ible mind and look into the secret of man’s heart, 
what an inexhaustible fountain of gratitude and 
thankfulness could be shown in the minds of Messrs. 
Stark}^ and Saul; far beyond nature to express, and 
known only to Him who can look upon the heart and 
read it there. 

The day following the first meeting, Saul resolved 
to approach Mr. and Mrs. Brown, and if possible. 


A Self-sufficient Nature. 


109 

impress their minds with the necessity of attending 
the meetings. lie said to them, “Now is the 
accepted time, now is the day of salvation, before 
you is an open door that no man can shut, when shut, 
no man can open. These are truths such as I want 
you to fully realize. Come up to the work and make 
your calling and election sure.” 

Mr. Brown told him he was willing and waiting 
to be taught ; that he had often felt he needed some- 
thing more than the world could give. 

“I am glad to hear it,” said Saul. “What you 
lack is grace in the heart; Jesus is ready and willing 
to give it. Will you ask him for it.^” 

I will,” was the reply. 

“ There is a great work before us, and it is already 
begun. It can be said, to-day we have planted the 
vine and on the morrow we will gather the vintage.” 

During the conversation Aunt Sabrina remained 
speechless. It was noticeable to Saul, who felt it his 
duty to address her personally, and forthwith made 
a beginning, to which she replied, ‘‘I have got 
enough to do at home. I believe I am as good as 
the Starkys. They have got Aunt Trichie running 
to every house, store, work-room and grog-shop in 
the town, and she has been in here trying to hurry 
me up to think I am a stranger to grace, but if the 
truth was known, I have got as much of it as I need. 
So you needn’t be puttin’ yourself out of the way 
to take up laborin’’ with' me, and I want you should 
let Sophia alone, for she, poor child, is almost worked 
to death. She has every thing to pull through that 
any one need to have. If she thinks she has time 
to go to meetin’ she will go, but Saul you know jist 
what we think of the Starkys. I would rather hear 


1 lO 


The Starless Crown. 


a dog bark than hear that man try to talk religion.” 

Saul turned toward Mr. Brown in time to see him 
wipe the fast falling tears just as he was taking his 
hat to go again to his work. Saul walked up to him, 
took his hand saying, ‘‘I suppose you are in readiness 
to go to your work shop, are you.^ ” Mr. Brown was 
too much choked with grief and tears to reply 
beyond a bow. “Well,” §aid Saul, “go, and ma}^ 
God go with you, pray for yourself and I will pray 
for you.” As the door closed behind him, Saul 
turned to Aunt Sabrina and said, “We have every 
prospect of a glorious revival. Last evening was our 
first meeting and there were several who came for- 
ward forprayer, some of whom will become garnished 
jewels in the house of God, I have all confidence to 
believe.” 

“Who are they,” asked Aunt Sabrina. 

“Mr. Harrison, Judge Jones, Lizzie Straightgate, 
Susie Hatting, and others I do not know. Two of 
the number at least were there through the influence 
of Aunt Trichie.” 

“I do want to know if Judge Jones has come to 
that.^ I would never have believed it.” 

“Judge Jones has a heart, but he is a man who has 
lived absorbed in public business for years.” 

“I shouldn’t wonder if his business and love of 
money would yet crowd out the Word. You see 
its purty hard turnin’ round, when one has got to 
be as old, and hard as I s’pose he has.” 

“ God is able to give him a new heart, and will. I 
saw him this morning; he is an humble seeker after 
righteousness and will obtain it. No one was ever 
refused and he will not be.” 

“Then Tom, you say, is takin’ a turn too, eh.^” 


Mother and Daughter. 


1 1 1 


‘‘I said Mr. Harrison.” 

“Well, he’s the same one; we always call him 
Tom, jist as though he was one of us.” 

“Yes, with all sincerity of heart. What I want 
is you and your whole household to become one of 
faith. — to become servants of Christ, an honor to 
the church and the world.” 

“I expect I am now; I am jist as good as the best 
of them; but, Saul, somehow you never see things 
quite right. You are never satisfied unless you can 
be reprimandin’. I feel I am a little bit too old to 
be led around by a youngster.” 

“ I am not wishing to rule you as a master over his 
servant, but be as a servant in my Master’s vine- 
yard.” 

At which time Aunt Sabrina made as much rush 
and bustle about the house as was in any way con- 
venient for her until Saul felt defeated in his 
attempt for the better, and walked back to his office. 

He had no sooner left the house than Sophia hast- 
ened into the room to know what had been keeping 
him so long, and before Aunt Sabrina could explain 
the matter, Sophia continued her story-telling with 
great emphasis, saying, “Tom has been in and I 
do believe he is really serious. He wanted me to 
be ready to go with him this evening to the church. 
He was not willing to listen to any excuse T could offer, 
would hardly accept the word ‘ no.’ And to hear 
him was enough to turn even the silvery light of the 
moon to blue; but I told him I could not, it was not 
possible. Mother, I was tempted to tell him the 
whole and have it the end. I would, but I did so 
woefully hate to. I thought perhaps I had better 
wait a little, let him first get his stomach full of 


112 


The Starless Crown. 


religion, he will then be all the better prepared to 
meet his doom. You know I have to get my 
manuscript ready by the first of May or as near that 
time as I can. And, to do this I must be busy and 
have but few interruptions.” 

‘‘That is so,” said Aunt Sabrina, “you purty gin- 
erally see straight into things. You know the best 
what is before you. I expect it ’s true that Tom is 
goin’ to be a church member. .Saul thinks so, he 
has been tellin’ it. He thinks there is going to be 
grand times. Calls it workin’ in his Master’s vine- 
yard. Mebbe it is, but he better not meddle too 
much with them that ’s as good as himself. He got 
father cryin’. He’s easy to cry always, you know, 
but he did n’t get tears out of my eyes ; I know too 
much. I’m glad you didn’t unfold things to Tom 
jist yet. I awfully dread it, for I expect it will 
make a turr’ble time. It will be so hard for him 
to give you up. His gettin’ religion may be a 
blessed thing, for if he didn’t there’s no tellin’ what 
might come. I have had a great many suspi- 
cions and bad dreams of late, but I hope it will 
come out sunshine after awhile. Anyway that ’s my 
prayer.” 

At this point the conversation was disturbed by 
Aunt Trichie, who had made a special call to insist 
upon Sophia’s going with her to the church that 
evening. 

Said she, “I am goin’ all ’round, seein’ everybody, 
doin’ all the good I can, and am feelin’ full of happi- 
ness. There’s precious times cornin’, I tell you. 
Judge Jones, he ’s all waked up. It ’s a blessed thing, 
everybody sez. I see him jist a little bit ago, 
and sez he to me, ‘Is there no balm in Gilead, is 


The Invitation Refused. 


there no physician there?’ Sez I to him, yes he’s 
near to every one of us. Now then it won’t be but 
a little while and he will be like the bright shinin’ 
of a candle. Then there is Lizzie, Susie, Tom and 
old Mother Fay, beside some more, and you see 
there is room for 3'OU. It would seem hard enough 
if all the rest were brought in and you left out. You 
can’t never feel what that will be till the time comes. 
And if that time has to come, there will never be 
any more chance for change. I can’t talk and tell 
things like Saul and the ministers, but I tell the best 
I can, and leave the rest with God.” 

Sophia gave Aunt Trichie a disdainful look, and 
after tossing herself about the room with a self-con- 
ceited, overbearing air, tripped awa}/ to her room to 
again pick up the pen. 

As her appearance was so cold and forbidding 
Aunt Trichie soon left with a sorrowful heart. Aunt 
Sabrina closely followed beside her as she passed 
out, and after closing the door sought Sophia, and 
said, “ I don’t expect now we shall see any peace, 
there is always somethin’ cornin’ up to distract a 
body.” 

‘‘Mother,” said Sophia, “the doctor will be in 
immediately after his return from the city, and I 
will consult him in regard to the better way for me 
to approach Tom. It is just here, if Tom is not 
• made to understand that I am not to be his, he will 
continually weary me, besides I cannot have the 
attention of two. One thing is true, heaven’s bless- 
ings smile on me, and so long as they do, I can feel 
myself approved. I am permitted to enjoy the 
highest earthly blessing of any one in Copperville. 
I have won the doctor.” 


4 


The Starless Crown. 


CHAPTER XV. 


Whilst it would be pleasing to pursue the religious 
meetings with all their prosperity and encourage- 
ment, it is necessary we should turn back and con- 
sider the position and proposition of Dr. Green the 
morning after his ecstatic dream. 

The face and form of Sophia was, as had been 
during the previous evening, vividly impressed upon 
his mind. “But I am,” he reasoned with himself, “a 
stranger.” , However that thought burdened him but 
a moment. He considered his own competency and 
turning to the desk wrote a clear, perceptible view 
of himself, giving it an ostentatious polish which 
was sufficient to make him all right, according to 
his own judgment. Proud of his capacity,' he folded 
the sheet, enclosed it in an envelope, which he de- 
posited in the side pocket of his coat. After 
depositing the envelope he took a general view of 
himself in the mirror, and felt satisfied that his cer- 
tificate, good looks and personal appearance would 
be enough to counteract and overthrow an}’ previ- 
ous engagement that could have been made between 
Sophia and Mr. Harrison. 

Believing the most venturesome was not always 
the safer way, he decided to address a note to her, 
asking the privilege of making her acquaintance. 
He was exceedingly careful to select the finest gilt^ 
edged paper, with a lovely flower stamped on one 
corner, also a fancy envelope with the address 


Dr. Green’s First Call. 


115 

superbl}' written. As he was extremely anxious, 
and too much afraid it might be overlooked in the 
postoffice, he hired a lad to deliver it immediately, 
then stoled himself to await the reply. 

The note was dul}^ received by Sophia, who 
hastily opened it, and after running over the lines 
with almost breathless surprise, called out ‘‘Mother!” 

With swift steps and uplifted hands Aunt Sabrina 
hastened to her, exclaiming “ now what ? ” As Sophia 
apparentl}^ was too happily surprised to speak. Aunt 
Sabrina eagerl}" snatched the note and glancing over 
the page, said, “Why, that ain’t anything bad. It 
isn’t anything more than I should have expected.” 

“Yes, but then it makes me feel so overjoyed. 
He is so beautiful and lovel}’. Then, too, he is Dr. 
Green, and the profession is everything of itself. 
Besides, oh m}^ if I only catch him will I not be 
fixed.” 

“Indeed you will, but you must strengthen up and 
help get things in order, for I shouldn’t wonder if he 
would be for cornin’ right on to-day.” 

“But this note is to be answered first,” and away 
Sophia went, but her search for suitable paper was 
all in vain. Mr. Brown having just come in sight 
she called out, “Father, I want, I must have, some 
nice gilt-edged paper, and an envelope that will com- 
pete with this one,” as she held it up for him to see. 
“Will you go.^ Will you get it, father.^” 

Mr. Brown, obedient to the demand, went, and in 
a little time all was had that was required to fit her 
for the task of penning a suitable reply, which was 
done with as much taste as her skill would permit. 

After an hour of hurry and bustle the house was 
fitly arranged for the reception of the new guest, to 


The Starless Crown. 


1 16 

whom had been given the privilege of spending- 
an hour between three and hve o’cloek that afternoon. 
When the appointed time came for the doctor to 
arrive, he was there and politely received, but, we 
are obliged to say, the heart of each vehemently 
beat. The words literature and popularity had^ 
from that which was actual, alienated the mind of 
the Doctor. Consequently his attempt to approach 
Sophia was extremely embarrassing for these rea- 
sons, whilst Sophia labored under the influence of 
the word professional, until upon her mind it became 
inscribed with emphasis. It was indeed laughable 
to think of their position for the first half hour. 
The Doctor sat and pulled, stretched, folded and 
pinched the corners of his handkerchief, once and 
again tucking it back into, then out of, the inside 
pocket of his coat. Whilst Sophia played with the 
Daily News, occasionally putting the edges of the 
paper between her teeth, then lightly tapping the 
tips of her shoulders with it until the word bashful- 
ness suggested itself to the mind of the Doctor. He 
then immediately broke the silence by saying “I 
feel Providence has wisely ordered my return to 
Copperville.” 

Sophia had several handsome replies premeditated 
but none that suited the remark made. She there- 
fore stammered out something in regard to Cop- 
perville and its enticements. 

The Doctor saw her embarrassment and continued 
his discourse by saying he thought, where two 
hearts beat in unison on earth, no matter how far 
separated, they were often brought together by an 
edict of an over-ruling Providence for the accom- 
plishment of his good purposes. 


H was indeed laughable to think of their position for the first half hour. 









\ 


A Hasty Engagement. 


H9 

We will not attempt to relate the particulars of 
their conversation, but simply add that the remarks 
made by the Doctor suited well the mind of Sophia, 
who put forth her best endeavors, and strange as it 
may appear mutuality was strongly felt and exhib- 
ited by either party; so much so, that before the 
hour had passed, which ere they were aware had 
lengthened into two, each was confident of having 
won the other. Before the Doctor left it was under- 
stood that the following day was to be particularly 
appointed to decide definitely in regard to a perma- 
nent engagement. ‘‘It is necessary,” said he, “that 
your parents should be consulted in this matter, and 
that we have their consent. I shall expect their 
presence, and shall be happy to present this,” draw- 
ing the envelope from his coat pocket. 

“What is it,” asked Sophia. 

“My credentials. It is wisdom to carry proof 
when among strangers,” said the Doctor. He then 
bade her an affectionate good-bye and left, exceed- 
ingly happy, in view of his reception and success, 
more particularly so for the reason that he could 
abandon the belief that it would be necessary that 
he should “swell himself to bursting size, to utter 
bulky words of admiration vast.” 

There was no time lost after the Doctor left. 
Sophia at once made her mother acquainted with 
the Doctor’s proposition and her happy prospects, 
also the necessity of an understanding between them 
in order to know just how to arrange their plans on 
the coming morrow. 

“Father,” said Aunt Sabrina, “we shall have to 
put our wits together, for I expect we are to have 
the new Doctor for son-in-law. I jist tell you this so 


130 


The Starless Crown. 


you will be prepared for the rest after tea. You see 
it won’t do to talk before Saul.” 

“No, indeed,” replied Sophia, “it will not be his 
privilege to know my affairs, and hand out his skill- 
witted comments.” 

“I think,” said Aunt Sabrina, “you jist better 
take a pan and go git some of Tom’s good hot-bed 
lettuce to have ready for breakfast, while Saul is in 
eatin’, for you show your happiness so, you know 
you can’t see yourself. Why, Sophia, you fly like 
the down of a thistle, then there’s sich a sparklin’ 
in your eyes, and your cheeks are like ‘ cherries in a 
pot of cream.’ That isn’t quite nateral, I know he 
would be sure to see it, and there would be no endin’ 
if he once did.” 

With a reluctant feeling at heai't, Sophia accepted 
her mother’s proposal and went for the lettuce, but 
returned whilst Saul was yet at the table. 

At the first glimpse of her face, he quickly 
remarked, “Your looks are rather enchanting. 
Whom were you trying to win.^” 

“I wonder if I am not already won,” said Sophia, 
as she picked up some of the beautiful leaves so 
fresh and green and presented them to him to turn 
his attention. 

“Those are very fine indeed, but what is still finer 
is the look of your fair face.” 

Aunt Sabrina could scarce!}^ contain herself, and 
fearing she might let an out-of-place word slip forth 
left the table. 

Saul needed no more than eyesight to understand 
the situation. It was his candid opinion that Sophia 
was the very one to whom Dr. Green had forwarded 
a note, and that there was an understanding 


Telling Father the News. 


12 I 


between them, but to what extent was a question. 
Not having contidence to believe he would get an 
idea of the truth for the reason that his opinion had 
been formerly expressed, he made no attempt to 
canvass the question but left as soon as possible 
with an air of indifference which was keenly felt by 
Sophia. She was sure Saul had come into posses- 
sion of some knowledge that led him to suspicion 
the intimacy between her and the Doctor. “I tell 
you,” she spoke out loudly, “we shall have to look 
two ways when Saul is in, for I would not have him 
know my plans for the world. It is evident that he 
is imbittered against the Doctor. He has said it 
plainly enough, and would gladly put a stumbling- 
stone in my way.” 

“Yes,” said Aunt Sabrina, “that he would; I 
shouldn’t wonder if you had better jist drop a word or 
two in the doctor’s ear, so he will be a little careful. 
To be careful never does any body harm. But 
father is waitin’ to know what is wanted of him. 
He says he can’t stay long; he must go back Jo the 
shop this evenin’ and work awhile.” 

“Why, father, I am next thing to' being engaged 
to the Doctor, what we want is to consult you, and 
have your consent. He will be here to-morrow to 
have it all permanently arranged. We want you 
to be present; will you be, father.^ Of course you 
know I should want you to appear well, be all clean 
and dressed in your best suit, for it will be one of 
the most important occasions of your life, and one 
that will not call for a repetition.” 

“Sophia,” said the heart-burdened father, “I 
don’t know what to say; I can’t see as you and 
mother do. Tom is a likel}’ man, and well-to-do. 


122 


The Starless Crown. 


Maybe Dr. Green is, I don’t know. I am a good 
deal afeared of him.” 

“You need not be,” said Sophia swiftly, “he car- 
ries his credentials; he is all right, that I know.” 

“I hope so,” continued the father, ‘‘but then, 
there is your book, I was calculatin’ on your gittin’ 
that printed. I think that ought to come fust, so 
father can have some of the proceeds. You see if 
Dr. Green should git you fust, and get things in 
his own hands, he would be countin’ it as real 
estate property belongin’ to you, and that would 
make it all his. Besides, there would be the wed- 
din’ that would cost lots, and make a hard pull for 
me.” 

“That, father, is why we should counsel together 
this evening, and have our minds prepared before he 
is here to be with us. He is in a hurry and wants 
we should be married soon, but if he will give me 
till the first or middle of May, I think I can com- 
plete the work and get it into the hands of a pub- 
lisher.# What is necessary is to have it understood 
that our marriage cannot take place until I shall 
have sufficient time given me to accomplish the 
work.” 

“That, then, is all right so far as it goes, but 
Sophia, do you think you are doin’ right in throwin’ 
Tom away.^ You know you have promised to be 
his wife, and he’s been so good and true to us all. 
It would be hard to see him turned off.” 

“I think it right I should marry the man I love 
the best; I cannot love Tom since I saw Dr. Green, 
and, father, don’t ask me to. Mother is willing I 
should marry the man who suits me best. And we 
do know it would be more suitable for me to marry 


Fear of Father’s Refusal. 


123 


a professional gentleman, than one who is a mere 
gardener.” 

‘‘I am willin’ to leave it with 3’ou and mother, for 
as you say so it would have to be. It is now time 
I was leavin’ to finish up for this evenin’ my chore 
of work at the shop.” 

“Mother, I would not be at all surprised if father 
did not see the Doctor at all to-morrow. If he should 
not, it will cast a blur over me. Father swallows 
every word Tom says, and no one does quite as near 
right, and he believes he can’t live without him, but 
I guess there are others who have dollars and cents, 
and cents will bu}^ garden vegetables. What is 
bought is better than a gift.” 

“I know m^’self that I think a good deal of Tom, 
but after all it’s jist as you say, Tom is a gardener 
and that’s no way like bein’ a doctor. I don’t think 
you need to feel worried if father should refuse to 
be in to-morrrow, for if the Doctor is made to know 
once that he is so wonderfully in favor of Tom, he 
will see through it all, and not think any the less 
of you. Mebbe he would more, I’ve heard say 
when a man had to dig ten years to earn his wife, 
he loved her enough better ever afterward to feel 
paid in full.” 

“I should call that love to begin with,” said 
Sophia. 

After an hour or more had passed, Sophia settled 
herself with the belief that all would be fair and 
smooth, and nothing was required of her beyond 
self-composure until the time for the Doctor to arrive 
next day. She then satisfied her appetite with a 
few lettuce leaves nicely prepared from Tom’s hot- 
bed, and retired for the night. It was a long one of 


134 


The Starless Crown. 


dreamless wakefulness. There was an anxiety rest- 
ing upon her mind, not of fear, but what might be 
termed dread. She believed when the morrow had 
passed, and she knew that every arrangement was 
permanently made, she should then feel at rest, for 
she could look beyond into the near future, when her 
life would be to her, “like one long summer day.” 

“Sophia,” said Aunt Sabrina, ‘^do you know 
what time in the day it is.^ The men have all had 
their breakfast and gone.” 

“I can’t help it,” said Sophia, ‘T have not had a 
wink of sleep all night, I could not compose myself.” 

“The dear me, I don’t think you need to have 
lain awake all night. I have been talkin’ to father, 
I think he’ll get around in time, and give his con- 
sent. He knows what I think purt}'^ plain, you know 
I ginerally rule, I have to in his case.” 

Sophia was not long getting to the table, but sun- 
dry duties compelled Aunt Sabrina to relinquish her 
relish for conversation, and she tried to influence 
Sophia to retirement, “to see if you can’t get your 
nerves pacified,” as she said, “for 3^011 don’t want 
to look scared, I always think when a body looks 
that wa}% the}^ look wild like. Mebbe you had bet- 
ter take a little of this balm cordial that father takes.” 

“I will chew green tea, that will answer. Don’t 
fear, mother, I shall be all right by the time the 
Doctor gets here; if not I shall be soon after, for his 
looks are enough to soothe and heal, without roots 
or herbs.” 

“Well, ral}4” responded Aunt Sabrina with a 
good heart}^ laugh, “we don’t find sich men ever}^ 
da}’; 3^011 are most dreadful fortunate I declare.” 

“Good fortune is what I am bound for, that I 


The Matter Settled. 


125 


have told you. Shall I dress in your butternut cash- 
mere this afternoon.^” 

“Yes, if you want to; I can put on my drab 
alpaca. I sha’n’t expect to be long in the room.” 

Without naming the many particulars that might 
interest, we will let it suffice to say that the Doctor 
was present at the hour appointed, neatly dressed 
and fragrantly perfumed. After a few minutes had 
passed in social conversation between Sophia and 
the Doctor, the parents were introduced. Without 
hesitation or embarrassment the Doctor proceeded 
to mention his proposed intention, and asked for 
a prompt and frank reply. At which time he 
extended the sheet of paper immediately after 
removing it from the envelope, with as much swift- 
ness as though he was acting the part of a 
playboy. Sophia read the written testimony to her 
parents, then presented it to them to look at, that 
they might see it for themselves. 

“That’s dreadful purty, and what’s more it’s good 
evidence,” said Aunt Sabrina. “ It tells us you are 
all right, is one sure thing.” Whilst the father 
remained as silent as a mute. 

“If it is satisfactory evidence may I not expect 
your willing consent.^” 

“Why, if the union between you and Sophia is 
one of hearts, I’m willin’,” said Aunt Sabrina. 

“Are you, Mr. Brown 

“I s’pose so,” he replied with faltering voice, and 
fast falling tears. 

The Doctor then arose, took Sophia by the hand, 
and in a standing position before the sorrowing 
hearted father, and gratified mother, declared him- 
self one who would ever be faithful to his trust, 
and constant to his vow. 


26 


The Starless Crown. 


CHAPTER XV I . 


“Sophia,” said Aunt Sabrina as she entered the 
dining room, “is the Doctor here yet.^” 

“He has just left me, did you not like him, mother.^ 
Can’t he do things up superbl}^^” 

“Well, I should say he could. He was in sich a 
hurry, I hardly had time to think.” 

“He believed that to be the better way, especially 
after I put a word in his ear about father. You 
know he did not really give his consent, but the 
Doctor thought nothing beyond that he was so 
affectionately fond of me, and the idea of giving me 
away was tenderly touching to him. But now we 
both feel much more happ}^ since we are reall}" 
engaged, and the arrangements made as nearly as 
they can be for the present. And mother, the Doctor 
will expect the privilege of coming in as he has 
leisure and feeling at home. I have assured him 
that this will be home to him, and that he can exer- 
cise freedom, for which he thanked me much. He 
told me he should not only regard it as a privilege 
but a boon. Said he could be compared to a stray 
bee, that would gladly return again to the hive.” 

“I’ll warr’nt he feels that wa}’; but now he can 
be comforted, for I will do my very best for him. 
How are you goin’ to manage Tom?” 

“I have not yet determined that part.* There are 
so man}’ things to think about and get done. That 
book is the greatest puzzle. I almost wish I had 


IIkk New 1>o()k. 


127 


never commeneed it ; but then, had I not there eould 
not have been the happy result for me to share in 
that there will now be. So long as it is but a treatise 
on ‘Realities, Arguments and Adventures,’ I can the 
sooner close it up and call it done. The truth is, I 
must be about it; I must improve ever}^ moment. 
And, too, there should be some trading done I 
think, so I can be working in some sewing now and 
then for a change.” 

‘T think that way myself, and to kind o’ work in 
a beginnin’ it ma}’ be I can get a few dollars of 
Saul.” 

“What a blessed thing it is for me that I have a 
mother,” said Sophia, as she lightly tripped away 
to engage in her literary work, which had become 
irksome under the circumstance of her engagement 
with Dr. Green, when previously it had been to her 
a great pleasure. She preferred to turn her atten- 
tion to fancy work, as she expressed it, but upon a 
word fitly spoken by her mother, she remarked with 
an air of brilliancy, ‘hhe books will bu}’,” and with a 
firm decision to persevere she steadily devoted her- 
self to the task with all the power of her mind and 
skill that her lingers could perform, until several 
da3’s had passed with no particular interruption 
beyond now and then a call. Sometimes the Doc- 
tor, then Tom, and occasionally^ Aunt Trichie, each 
witli his own special purpose, and in turn receiving 
the accustomed entertainment, until the time 
arrived of which we have heretofore made mention 
in a previous chapter. The circumstances that 
surrounded Sophia at this time were of a remarkable 
character. She was highly delighted with the pros- 
pect of being the wife of a professional gentleman. 


128 


The Starless Crown. 


She felt richly endowed, elated, promoted, and in- 
deed it would be difficult to present a clear repre- 
sentation of her exalted anticipations. 

Meanwhile there was a disquiet in consequence 
of her unfaithfulness to him to whom she had been 
so long engaged that the freedom of her enjoyment 
was disturbed. But, as she said, ‘‘My engagement 
with Tom must be broken. These serious reflec- 
tions he is having I cannot endure. The attention 
of two I cannot have, and though I woefully dread 
it, somehow or in some way it must be done.” 

P"or these reasons the first opportunity according 
to her own judgment, she consulted the Doctor, who 
thought it unadyisable that she should talk with 
Tom face to face, for fear he might over-rule her, 
and in consequence have a prolonged trouble. 

“I should consider it altogether the better way,” 
said the Doctor, “to write Mr. Harrison a decided 
set-off and let that be the end of it. Who knows,” 
he continued, “but we might meet here, there would 
be nothing unlikely about it. I think the sooner he 
is made to know you are to be mine, the better it 
r will be.” 

“That is so, I am confident,” said Sophia, “still I 
have a dread to act. Father is ardently attached to 
him, and there were reasons why it was thought 
best to keep quiet for a while. But now since these 
meetings are being conducted, and he is among those 
who feel deeply interested, his anxiety for me greatly 
disturbs me. He has became a perfect vexer. I 
cannot, will not, go with him, consequently I feel 
the time very truly has come, when it is just that he 
should know the reality before him.” 

“I hope you will no longer hesitate,” said the 


Writing the Letter. 


129 


Doctor, “it is to me a matter of great moment.” 

“I certainly will not neglect it after to-morrow, I 
will assure you,” was her prompt reply. 

The door was no sooner closed behind him, than 
Aunt Sabrina made it convenient to drop into 
Sophia’s room to discuss the matter, for she was 
sure Sophia would do as she had said, “consult the 
Doctor.” 

“What does he think asked Aunt Sabrina. 

“Why. he does not want I should hesitate, but 
write him immediately a short and convincing note, 
and believe me it is what I am now trying to do. 
But, mother, it is the hardest thing to write I ever 
wrote in my life; with all I do so much prefer the 
Doctor, to write Tom a decided set-off comes awful 
tough, I assure you. I have picked up my pen, I 
am not quite sure, but maybe ten times, to make a 
beginning and failed.” 

“Well, now, you had better lay it away till morn- 
in’. You are in too much of a fluster to know jist 
what to say. Time is required to do all things, and 
especially sich a piece of work as this is.” 

“ One would suppose it could be hastil}^ done, but 
if not so, then it must be long drawn,” muttered 
Sophia. 

“ Can’t I help you a little.^ We don’t want to 
make him mad or the like, but to keep the right 
side of him as nearly as we can; he is so accommo- 
datin’ always, you know.” 

“Of course I am willing 3'ou and father should be 
on friendly terms with him. In fact I, too, wish to 
be, but for me to exchange hearts will change his 
feelings toward us. But I must try and get together 
a few ideas, for now the Doctor will, more than at 


9 


130 


The Starless Crown. 


any time before, be looking into the matter.” And 
she at onee made another attempt with some better 
success. After re-reading it a time or two, she 
asked, ‘‘Will that do.^” 

“I don’t see but it will,” said Aunt Sabrina, “but 
you’d better jist add to it that I send ni}' best 
respects to him.” 

In short it was pronounced finished, and read as 
follows : 

“ Mr. T. Harrison, 

Dear Sir: — Please do not feel too much surprised at 
the contents of this note. To be short, plain and truthful 1 
must say I wish to be released from my engagement with 
you. I hope you will not feel hurt with me, or do yourself 
an injustice in consequence. I wish you prosperity in all 
things, and may you be buoyed up above every sorrow that 
may take possession of you, and make you willing that I 
should be free from you, to act my own pleasure in regard 
to choice, especially in choosing a husband. 

“Respecfully, 

“ Sophia Brown.” 

The next morning Aunt Sabrina said, “Sophia, 
do you think 3^ou will let that do, }^ou wrote last 
evenin’.^” 

“I think I may, but mother, I am of the opinion 
that I will let it lie a few days. I have written, and 
if the Doctor asks me in regard to it, I can tell him 
I have, and that will make it all right with him. It 
will be right, but not as he would suppose. He will 
expect me to send it post haste. I shall exercise 
my own judgment about the matter. It is a plain 
truth, that to hold back a little will be to our advan- 
tage. If the Doctor thinks the thing is done, and 
Tom cut off, it is the same to him as though he 
was.” 


Dr. Green’s Anxiety. 


‘‘If you are satisfied, I shall be glad enough to 
have you do that way. Father is needin’ Tom’s 
horses, right bad, for a day or two and that would 
give him one more chance, if there should never be 
another for him to have.” 

The Doctor being exceedingly thoughtful that 
morning, it occurred to his mind that it would be 
better if he regarded carefully Sophia’s position, and 
exercised freedom in her behalf. “It is not a small 
thing to dethrone an old king,” said he to himself. 
“Mr. Harrison has been too long her special atten- 
dant. She may, under present circumstances, need 
my support and she shall have it.” Accordingly he 
picked up his hat and walked over with quick steps, 
and into the house, very unexpected!}’ to Sophia. 
As soon as a favorable opportunity presented itself, 
he asked, “ Have you written? ” 

“I have,” was the reply. 

“I am having, perhaps,” said the Doctor, “an 
unwarrantable suspicion. Are you hopeful in your 
effort to dislodge Mr. Harrison’s affections?” 

“I see no reason why I should not be. He will 
feel bad without doubt; I may at the outset suffer 
some inconvenience, but I shall gain the victory.” 

“It was my apprehension that you might have 
some difficulty, and perhaps I could render you some 
assistance by standing by you. A burden is easier 
borne when there are two to bear it.” 

At this point in the conversation Sophia was 
called by her mother, whom she hastily obeyed, and 
on reaching the kitchen saw Tom coming up the 
walk from the side gate in his old familiar way. 
With a low, soft voice Sophia said, “Mother, be 
careful how you speak. Speak very low; it will 


132 


The Starless Crown. 


not do for the Doctor to hear. I am too much 
afraid he would want to be here with the view of 
defending me. He is very much concerned on my 
account.” 

But as fortune would have it, Tom was only 
there to present them with a basket of hne parsnips 
and artichokes from his garden. As soon as Tom’s 
feet struck the walk Sophia said, ‘‘Mother that note 
must go at once to the postoffice. It will not do; I 
am under obligations to the Doctor and he is awake 
to it. The sooner Tom reads the note the better it 
will be. I pity him, it will almost take his life.” 

“Yes,” said Aunt Sabrina, “but then he has got 
to be a Christian. He ’s been brought out, so Aunt 
Trichie told me, yesterda}^ You know sich folks 
think their afflictions work for their good, and there’s 
no tollin’ but he will git things fixed up in some 
sich way as that for himself. It will be a blessed 
thing if he only does. Should his religion carry 
him through all this trouble straight, it will be doin’ 
more than ever I thought it would do.” 

“Yes, indeed, and I hope it ma}^,” said Sophia, 
“for it would seem sad enough to me if I had to 
feel that I had sealed his death warrant,” and with 
these words she returned to the Doctor. 


Taking Counsel Together. 


^33 


CHAPTER XVII. 


It was a dull morning, with darkened, overhanging, 
impenetrable clouds, misty rain and distant rumbling 
thunder, but there were no overcasting clouds that 
covered the mind of Harrison when he, with nimble 
tread and happy countenance, entered Saul’s office. 

‘‘ I have something with which to interest you 
this morning,” said Harrison, as he, with a pleasing 
air, presented a note to Saul, who at once received it, 
and after having hastily read it turned with eyes fixed 
upon him. A long pause ensued. Harrison broke 
the silence by saying, “I am waiting for a word.” 

Said Saul earnestly, “I find in myself an indescrib- 
able vacancy. I do not know in what way to 
express my own mind.” 

‘‘Are you surprised.^” asked Harrison. 

“Not as much as I presume you are.” 

“lam not as much as I might have been,” said 
Harrison, “but, thank God, it is not with me to-day 
as it would have been three months in the past. 
To-day it is a happy surprise. No happier one 
could have come to me.” 

“Are you aware of the cause .^” asked Saul. 

‘ ‘ My suspicions were awakened yesterday. Have 
you had reason to believe such as this would have 
come to me.^” 

“I have been very much afraid of it,” said Saul. 
“In what way were your suspicions awakened yester- 
day, pray tell.^” 


134 


The Starless Crown. 


‘‘I was inquired of in regard to the health of the 
family, and told that Dr. Green had been seen to go 
in several times. I thought to try a test, and at once 
picked up a basket of vegetables and walked over, 
having in view a selfish motive. It did not need 
the skill of a philosopher to understand there was an 
ear not far off. I discovered what I could in a short 
time, formed an opinion of my own, and left satisfied. 
Last evening I found this in the postoffice. Accord- 
ing to my view of the matter she has some anxiet}^ 
for me, if no love.” 

‘‘She has perfect confidence in your constancy 
and affection for her,” said Saul. 

“She is truly aware I never make a vow to break. 
Were it otherwise in consequence of this recent 
change of feeling on my part, perhaps she — ” and 
choked back the utterance. 

“I understand your meaning,” said Saul, “I am 
not blinded in the matter.” 

“The time has been,” continued Harrison, “that 
I loved Sophia with an exuberant affection, but were 
I to make the confession that conscience would 
allow, I should say, since the commencement of our 
meetings I have suffered conviction, and would gladly 
have looked forward with the hope of release, which 
I supposed would not come ; but since it has come 
with no default on my part, I am to-day a happier 
man. Do you really believe Dr. Green to be at the 
bottom of this matter.^” 

“In all probability,” was Saul’s quick reply. 

“The question in my mind is where did they first 
meet. I knew nothing of an introduction between 
them.” 

“ I take him for a fast man, ” said Saul. “ It has been 


Is He a Villain? 


35 


but a short time since he made his first appearance 
in Copperville. He sat by me on our ride to Castle 
Hill, you will recollect.” 

Saul, what is your opinion of him, anyway ? Y ou 
have had a- better opportunity of knowing him than 
I have.” 

“ Because you ask it, and under the circumstances 
I will give it. It is this: If his conscience had a 
thousand several tongues, and every tongue brought 
in a several tale, every tale would condemn him as 
a villain.” 

“If you are correct what will that poor girl’s por- 
tion be.^ Wed to a loon. But we will not be too 
fast with our suspicions; Dr. Green may not be the 
man.” 

‘‘He is the very man; I believe it. I have had 
occasion heretofore to freelv express myself about 
him.” 

‘ ‘ And I blind ! How could such a thing be ? Why 
Saul, I have not at any time since our first engage- 
ment failed to spend an hour at least with her every 
week, besides being to and from the house fre- 
quently. Called it home, felt at home. I had every 
reason to feel perfectly free, as I supposed. I very 
soon learned their financial position, that it was not 
the most comfortable of any in the world, and it 
afforded me pleasure to assist them not only in one^ 
but in every way. They were always welcome to 
whatever was needed of such as I had, and so far 
as I am able to judge, they were free to take what 
they wished. I never at any time met a gentleman 
there, or learned of anything to arouse a suspicion 
of jealousy. So far as heartfelt affection was con- 
cerned, I had in Sophia the most implicit confidence. 


136 


The Starless Crowx. 


I was well aware she was not perfect in many things, 
but knew her home influence was in no way calcu- 
lated to improve her. It was my opinion that age, 
a new home, and change of scenery would largely 
benefit her. I had not one thought but that she was 
to be mine. Mine as long as life lasted, and I her 
own, to be and do for her all that was possible under 
every circumstance and condition. But to plainly 
tell you, since our religious meetings are being con- 
ducted, I have become disheartened with her cold 
indifference in both words and actions. Not onl}^ so, 
but, to use a still stronger term, felt disgusted. I 
had a fervent desire for her undying soul; I wanted 
to feel that we were spiritually united. I made an 
effort, but it was impossible to get possession of her 
mind. Saul, believe me, she became almost violent. 
Should it surprise you if I sa}" I could look upon one 
other, and say to myself, if Sophia was only what 
you are, if she only had your heart, and Saul, it led 
me to further question, ‘how can two walk together 
except they be agreed.’ With the reply you are 
acquainted. It may not seem as strange to you 
for these reasons, when I say that my mind having 
become differently impressed and having drawn up a 
certain degree of disunion, I was properly prepared 
to receive this note, and feel no unhappiness.” 

“Harrison, would you allow me to ask who the 
especially pleasing one is, and not think me imperti- 
nent?” 

“Your question is excusable. Let me hear, please, 
I have no doubt as to the truth of your impression.” 

“Lizzie, is it not?” 

“She is the very one I look upon with admiration.” 

“ I am not at all surprised at your taste. She is 


A Heart’s Secret. 


137 


an estimable young lady; so far as I am able to judge 
she has an excellent mind. I should be pleased to 
know your attention was turned to her, and that 
3’ou were duly appreciated by her. It has been said : 

“ ‘ ’Tis well to woo, ’tis well to wed, 

For so the world has done. 

Since lilies grew, and roses bloomed. 

And morning brought the sun.’ ” 

^‘Indeed I thank you,” said Harrison, “and may 
I not hope that my example will prove valuable to 
3^ourself.” 

“Whilst it is my candid opinion that every man 
should have a wife, and ever}^ woman a husband, 
there are circumstances under which either ma}' live 
alone. Marriage is the union of two hearts, and 
unless there can be that perfect union of hearts, there 
should be none of hands.” 

“Is it possible that you have not met with the 
right one yet.^” said Harrison, with a merry twinkle 
of the eye. 

“You are not acquainted with my history, Harri- 
son. Every man has a heart, and eveiy heart has 
its own store-room.” 

At this moment, Saul could no longer hide the 
sensitiveness of his mind for the tears that flooded 
his eyes to overflowing, and trickled down upon his 
manly cheeks. The heart of Harrison was touched, 
and for a few minutes everything was hushed. 

At length Harrison said, “Pardon me for having 
awakened a sad remembrance. It was unconsciously 
done, I knew nothing of your misfortune.” 

“Certainly not,” responded Saul, “it is not advisa- 
ble for me to speak of these matters. But upon 


138 The Starless Crown. 

you the favor of knowing I will cheerfully confer. 

“My maiden lives in fairer lands, 

Arabelle, my darling Arabelle. 

It was through her influence that I become acquainted 
with the doctrine of Christ and consecrated to his 
service.” 

With a mixed feeling of humility and reverence 
on the part of Harrison, whose eyes rested upon 
Saul with devoted attention, he said, “Why is it that 
3/^ou have chosen the law practice.” 

‘H aim to practice both the profession of law and 
godliness. To my mind there is no class of men 
who should be possessors of more of the fundamental 
doctrine of the gospel than those who handle the 
law. Christianity is the basis of all purity and per- 
fection. Let it prevail, and there will be no persons 
found sitting side by side with the bar of enmit^^ 
between them. We have been permitted to see 
here among us, since our religious meetings were 
commenced, the strong walls of prejudice and bitter- 
ness crumble to nothingness. It is no uncommon 
thing for me to be asked, ‘Wh}" are you a lawyer?’ I 
presume to think that, with the spirit of grace, I 
may be able to do greater good in the law practice 
than any other. I have so far and always mean to 
lead men from trouble, not into it. Whilst I expect 
to live by my profession, m}^ advice is, if you want 
to liv'e, unless absolutel}^ necessary, let law alone. 
Blot out these penny-eyed lawyers who work for 
coin more than the well being of the one whom they 
are trying to defend, and we will see more prosperity 
in our land, and less of the hardships of poverty. 

“There are certain things carried on in the law 


Law and Godliness. 


139 


practice that I shall ever prohibit, at least as far as 
my influence can extend. Neither man nor woman 
ever need come to me with a complaint, asking me 
to conduc-t a suit against their voluntarily wedded 
companion, short of such positive proof against either 
party, as is forbidden in the law of God. Let there 
be less divorce bills granted, and there will be less 
resemblance to Mormonism, and no occasion what- 
ever for thrusting out. Take nine cases out of 
every ten where bills have been granted, it does not 
seem to make any difference with either male or 
female; let them have a second opportunity of choos- 
ing a companion, and they are not any better satisfied 
with the second than they were with the first, and 
indeed there is sometimes a repetition; and it is 
where the second bill is granted that Mormonism is 
more accurately applied. I tell you, Harrison, I am 
down on such things. There is in it neither truth, 
honesty, nor honor; and to me all that is untrue, dis- 
honest, and dishonorable is like noxious weeds grown 
in a fertilized soil. For these reasons it is necessary 
that united pairs should be mutually united; in which 
case, if they are, there is no falling out by the way. 
And with this truth before us, Harrison, according 
to my mind no greater favor could have been con- 
ferred upon you, than that which has just been.” 


140 


The Starless Crown. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 


“I do wonder what is keepin’ Saul from his dinner 
to-day; everything is gettin’ cold and spoiled. I 
s’pose he thinks I’ve nothin’ else to do but to wait 
upon him, so it makes no difference, I can make it 
right when he does come.” 

‘‘O, my, no,” said Aunt Trichie, as she was just 
entering through the wood-house, “I think mebbe 
they’re havin’ prayer meetin’ in the law office. I’ve 
been passin’ by ever so many times, you see I am 
out tryin’ to do everybody all the good I can. I go 
round to kinder keep them up in good cheer, and 
that’s what I expect Saul’s doin’. Mebbe Tom 
wants some information and encouragement, I see 
him in there the first thing this mornin’, and he was 
there yet when I jist now come past.” 

“I do wonder if Tom is livin’ in that law office to- 
day,” said Aunt Sabrina with air of excitement, 
meanwhile casting an inquiring glance toward Sophia, 
who in one moment turned pale with terror at the 
announcement, and after returning a sly wink, 
turned around, to escape Aunt Trichie’s observing 
eye, if possible. 

“Oh, don’t feel worried over it,” said Aunt 
Trichie, “for I tell you there’s great times come, 
and that it’s a great blessin’ that’s come upon us. 
We’re havin’ prayer meetin’s all over. Now is a 
time when everybody gits up close together. And 
there is so much love. Don’t see an^Thing but love 


Another Warning. 


141 

and good feelin’s now days. I lay my house work 
all right down, so I can be doin’ good everywhere 
round outside.” 

It is hardly necessary to say the suspicion that 
excited the' minds of Aunt Sabrina and Sophia was 
unnoticed by Aunt Trichie. Still she continued to 
present in her own most simple language the 
brighter side by rehearsing the probability of a 
religious association between Saul and Tom, in the 
law office, the same as was being had at various 
places throughout the town. And with all the 
strength of her mind she attempted to lay before 
them the prevailing religious influence, and her own 
fervent desire to impress the minds of all those to 
whom she could have access, with the sense of the 
obligations they were under to their Maker. She 
also reassured them that her call on them was for 
no other purpose than to spiritually benefit them. 

Spoke Aunt Sabrina in a cold, abrupt way, ‘‘I 
don’t care how much you talk and pray. It’s been 
had in the house once to-day, but I can tell you I 
And more than that to do. I am almost worked to 
death, and Sophia, too, poor child. We are almost 
crazy with all there is before us. You don’t know 
anything about it. If you can afford to lay your 
work down, and gad around the town to please the 
Starkys, that ’s your business. I am glad to hear tell 
of love; I think it’s time it come. The37tell me the 
Starkys got up these meetin’s. They are tryin’ to 
make a great show. Do they pay you for }^our time 

‘‘The dear me. Aunt Sabrina, you don’t get 
things anywhere near right. I ain’t workin’ for the 
Starkys, I am doin’ for the Lord; and that’s what 
I’m come to see you for now.” 


143 


The Starless Crown. 


know without any tollin’ all about the Lord; 
and I know myself besides, and I shall tell you the 
same I told Saul, 3"ou needn’t be puttin’ 3wirself out 
of the way to take up laborin’ with me. There is 
a great deal else to be done beside goin’ to meetin’. 
I don’t suppose there is another one in all this town 
that ’s doin’ half what Sophia is, or will git an3^ 
better reward. She is doin’ good that ages can never 
obliterate. That is what Dr. Green sa3’s, he ’s heard 
about it.” 

“That Dr. Green, eh! Does he keep cornin’.^” 

“ Neighborl3Mike.” 

“That’s all, I s’pose,” said Aunt Trichie, “Tom 
was alwa3"s good, but he’s better now. The3^’ve 
been tellin’ me all round that he’s worth his weight 
in gold. Blessed thing for Sophia that she ’s got on 
him a fast hold. But I haven’t got so much time to 
spare, I must be gettin’ on, but afore I go you must 
promise me 3^ou will be over to the meetin’ house 
this evenin’.” 

“I certainly will not,” said Sophia swiftly, “I am 
a law unto myself.” 

As ever3Thing was forbidding. Aunt Trichie 
walked awa3', as she had man3^ times, sorrowing, 
and upon her lips the parting words, “the Lord bless 
you.” 

She had no sooner taken her leave of them, 
than x\unt Sabrina and Sophia began to unfold to 
each other their fears and apprehensions. It was 
beyond doubt a truth, if Tom was spending a da3^ 
in that law office, he was there for no good, and 
after putting all the possibilities together, felt them- 
selves in deep water. 

While thus counseling together, with hearts full 


The Doctor’s BRA^'ADo. 143 

of consternation and unwarrantable conclusions, the 
Doctor happened in, and was soon made acquainted 
with the sign that signified a fast coming warfare. 

“While the appearance has in itself,’’ said the 
Doctor, ‘‘a broad signification from which we may 
justly draw a conclusion that will acquiesce with your 
suspicion, we will not borrow too much trouble; let 
him take action first ; should it be necessary, it would 
be justifiable certainly, on my part, were I to roll 
over him as would the car wheels of Jaganaut. I 
can,” he continued, “see no reason if a marriage con- 
tract can be broken by a single oath, and an expense 
of a few dollars, why a trivial engagement should 
need either. It would certainly be a very ungentle- 
manly act on the part of Harrison to interfere with 
us, after having been plainly notified as to the 
change of heart, especially as he has just been newly 
dressed in the garb of Christianity. One would 
suppose he would be more considerate for fear of 
being what is termed a stumbling stone; or in other 
words, a dishonor to the cause.” 

“I did hope his gittin’ religion,” said Aunt Sa- 
brina, ‘‘would help ease him off, but I do expect, to 
give Sophia up is like takin’ his heart right out of 
him.” 

“That is very probable, but I shall contend for 
her, and stand by her. You can trustingly confide 
in me. I believe I am as brave as Harrison is 
strong. So, darling, I want to see you wipe away 
these tears before I leave you. I have a patient in 
the country that I must necessarily visit, and it is 
now time I was riding. I shall expect to see you 
brightened on my return. Good-bye.” 

“I am so glad,” said Sophia, “the Doctor has a 


144 


The Starless Crown. 


patient to visit in the country. I do not wish him 
here when Saul is in the house. Just now I should 
much rather they would not meet. I know so well 
how he would do; he would glare those large eyes 
of his, and put on that commanding, dictatorial 
appearance so natural to him, and he would take 
special pleasure in showing it out, if the Doctor 
was here, as he alwa3'S does when he is with those 
for whom he has no respect.” 

“I guess I knew all about Saul, and I feel a good 
deal as you do. I would rather the Doctor would 
be away; but then I have got him to face, and that 
ain’t all. I expect we shall have what can’t be 
called pleasant times, when he comes to supper, 
if he does, for I shall give him a piece of m}^ mind.” 

‘^It will do no good, mother, if you do. He will 
do his best in a suit against me all the same, if Tom 
is bound to hght me.” 

At the tea hour Saul was in, and took his place at 
the table with his usual cheerfulness, spoke of the 
atmosphere, and of having had an unfavorable day 
for out-door business, etc. 

To which Aunt Sabrina with a strong expression 
of bitterness spoke out, ‘Ts that what has been 
keepin’ Tom in your office all day.^” 

Saul cast an inquiring look but made no reply. 

‘‘Aunt Trichie thought you was havin’ prayer 
meeting, but if the truth was known we should find 
it had been a peculiar kind of a prayer meeting, is 
what I suspect.” 

“What do 3^011 wish me to understand. Aunt 
Sabrina.^” 

“I want to know if Tom is goin’ to take up arms 
against Sophia.” 


Saul’s Opinion. 


45 


‘‘Mother, mother,” sighed Mr. Brown, “I don’t 
want to hear trouble.” 

“ But I guess you will have to hear it, and share 
in it too, as well -as myself.” 

“Why should Harrison take up arms against 
Sophia.^ What has she done.^” asked Saul. 

“I expect 3^011 know.” 

“Why should 3'Ou expect me to know.^” 

“Didn’t Tom tell you.^” 

“What idea have you of his telling. Has an3^- 
thing especiall}^ new happened.^” 

“I should sa}' there had, and if Sophia thinks the 
difference between a gardener and doctor enough to 
break her engagement with Tom, she will.” 

“Then, am I to understand that Sophia is already 
on mutual terms with Dr. Green 

“I expect you ma}^” 

“I will say to you, no plainer stor3^ could be told 
me, than has been right here in this room, by you 
and yours. When I by accident learned that Dr. 
Green had hired a lad to deliver to Sophia a note, it 
told me a story. Then meeting 3^011 as I daily do, 
and seeing all I have, told much more. For me to 
tell 3/0U what I think would not please you, for I am 
disgusted with the whole affair. That fellow came 
here a stranger. He has puffed himself, and for some 
cause he has dared to introduce himself into your 
family, and you seem to regard him as a compeer.” 

“Saul, what on ’arth have 3"ou got against that 
man.^ He is jist as fine a gentleman as you are.” 

“How came you to know it.^” 

“He carries his credentials,” said Sophia. 

“ Then, Sophia, he really does carry his creden- 
tials, does he. Will you be so kind as to ask the 

10 


146 


The Starless Crown. 


privilege of presenting them to me.^ It would be a 
favor.” 

‘‘ Were I to, you would be sure to find something 
not quite right about them.” 

“ If his testimony is not right, and I could detect 
it in time for your good, 3 H)u should feel thankful to 
me for it.” 

“Well Saul,” said Aunt Sabrina, “you needn’t 
be meddlin’. I have seen it for myself, and heard 
it too. He carries jist as beautiful a piece of paper; 
it ’s as purty as a picture, and it tells all about him. 
No one should want anything more or better. I 
don’t.” 

“All right,” said Saul, “if you are satisfied it is 
immaterial to me. To know, however, that our 
friends do well is very gratifying. To see them 
plunge themselves in a gulf of woebegone misfor- 
tune has the opposite effect.” 

Saul, not willing to give the desired information, 
but having gotten all that was really needed to 
guarantee the position of Dr. Green, was quite will- 
ing to take his leave. 

Aunt Sabrina and Sophia were too full of indigna- 
tion to pay particular attention to Saul as he left, 
but they supposed he had returned to his place of 
business; on the contrary", he had, as he felt, a mes- 
sage to deliver, and walked directly to Harrison’s 
cottage. 

Meanwhile, Sophia and her mother brooded, 
studied and considered, until they at length decided 
it was possible Harrison would not take action 
against her, if they were careful to show no suspi- 
cion, and be usually pleasant with him. Having 
thus considered. Aunt Sabrina thought she might 


Aunt Sabrina’s Discovery. 


147 


better just run over and speak a few words to him, 
pleasantly, and get a little hot-bed lettuce, as that 
would make things look more natural, and show 
she was in no way angry, but having all good feel- 
ings toward him, which she did. When to her 
unbounded surprise she found Saul and Tom appar- 
ently confidentially engaged in a private conver- 
sation. Not stopping to regard any notice they 
might have taken of her, she speedily retraced her 
steps, woe-shaken and enraged. 

‘‘It’s a fact,” she said, as she reentered the house, 
“Saul and Tom have got their heads together, and 
they are there like two settin’ hens on one nest. 
There is no tellin’ where these things are goin’ to 
end.” And with an almost paralyzing shriek of 
desperation, she sunk into an arm-chair with her 
clamorous gabble, until she quieted down from 
weariness. 


148 


The Starless Crown. 


CHAPTER XIX. 


As we sometimes remark, long heacjs look a long 
ways. Saul and Harrison were two long-headed, 
witty fellows, too full of truth and good humor to 
involve themselves, or be the means of absorbing 
others, in a whirlpool of trouble. They merely 
rehearsed in confidence the probability of an incon- 
sistent step for Sophia to trust herself to the care of 
Dr. Green, but as either party could at this time 
choose for themselves, Harrison was comfortable 
and happy with the view of one whom he looked 
upon as faultless, and Sophia was free to use her own 
liberty. 

“I dread,” said Harrison, “the first step. Saul 
what shall I say.^” 

“If you lack confidence,” said Saul, “walk over to 
my office in the morning, and I shall have ready a 
written document.” 

“You must study up instruction now, I cannot 
wait till morning.” 

“What! Harrison, going before you sleep 

“Yes, before supper. We are told that, ‘pro- 
crastination is the thief of time,’ and it sometimes 
takes more. I feel, I can’t describe it, I cannot 
express the sacredness of my mind. It appears like 
a something most precious to be forever lost, unless 
gotten now. I wish I could define it, it has in it a 
rapture; it is flooding all my soul.” 

“Harrison, it is love in the bud that ails you.” 


Tom Confides in Saul. 


49 


‘‘If this, then, that I am now pressed with, is love 
in the bud, I want the bud in bloom.” 

“ That is just what I wish you to have, I wish you 
success, Harrison. 1 should indeed be pleased to 
see your life paralleled with that one upon whom 
the scar of enmity has no place. Whose cheeks 
are tinged with the rose of girlhood, whose eyes like 
sparkling orbs express a noble gift of an intellectual 
capacity, l 3 ’'ing just behind them. Whose face 
denotes amiability of character, for what is more 
contemptible than a peevish, sour-minded woman. 
Beside all else, that one to whom we refer has a 
heart filled with the spirit of grace, and has become 
a pattern of good works.” 

Life has in it separate distinction and each dis- 
tinction an opposite, an unlikeness such as joy and 
sorrow, love and hate, pleasure and gloom, mirth 
and seriousness, and as we must suppose, that this 
particular time of which we now speak, was one 
of mirth and seriousness. Harrison was in the first 
stage of mental affection, but entangled with the web 
of fear. 

“Come, Saul, strike up, give me a world-worthy 
hint and I will arrange m^’self for the test. The 
achievement requires affability, and should I need a 
friend to corroborate in my behalf, stand at the helm. 
Saul, Lizzie is more than life to me; she has uncon- 
sciously sealed my very soul to her; and while I do 
feel that I possess ordinary courage, you know I am 
but, as Sophia expresses it, a gardener, and that is 
not like having a profession.” 

“Yes, but, Harrison, to take the more correct 
view, we will see that while there may be a differ- 
ence in the degree of station, there is also in char- 


The Starless Crown. 


150 

acter, in moral culture, education and personal de- 
velopment. It is far better to have the last named 
differences perfected, than the first. If equivalent to 
the latter, the first is non-essential, as stations in all 
ages and condition are subject to changes. I see 
nothing humiliating in your position. You are 
doing a praiseworthy business and are making good 
advancement, which in time may stimulate you to 
what might be termed a higher life, should you 
please. Your reputation is such that you are 
regarded as one of the first in the vicinity. 
Any lady who would refuse your hand because 
you are a tiller of the ground, would not be your 
equal in the differences of which we have just 
spoken, and altogether unworth}^ of recommendation 
or your special consideration.” 

“Saul, your sayings are stimulating, but, after 
all, do you not think it would be well to present a 
note to secure her attention?” 

“No, no; go independently, not too rapidly, but 
consistently introduce your own business. ‘A word 
to the wise is sufficient.’ ” 

Harrison at once made ready and left, with some 
degree of fortitude, by simply saying, ‘H do wish 
my heart would stop its ffuttering. Saul, can you 
hear it?” 

“Not at a speaking distance,” was his gleeful 
reply. 

Saul tarried in Harrison’s room during his absence, 
much delighted with the step he was taking, but 
counted the minutes that seemed long in their dura- 
tion, under the circumstance of his anxiety. When 
just forty-five minutes by his ticking timepiece had 
passed, Harrison was seen on the walk, retracing 


Almost Discouraged. 


151 

his steps homeward, with a twinkle in his eye, and 
the corners of his mouth drawn to indicate a smile 
that bespoke encouragement. As he neared the 
doorway, Saul clapped his hands and exclaimed 
‘‘God bless you.” 

“Don’t be too fast,” said Harrison, “there is 
room to fear,” and at once dropped into a chair as 
heavily as though he was lead. Then, after having 
taken his handkerchief from the side pocket of his 
coat, and wiping the suffused drops of perspiration 
from his brow, he said, “it is harder work to woo 
than hoe.” 

It could not be considered unwise if at this time 
the two were a little jolly, and indulged in a freak 
of merriment which terminated in song: 

Woo the fair one when around 
Early birds are singing ; 

When, o’er all the fragrant ground 
Early herbs are springing ; 

When the brookside, bank, and grove. 

All with blossoms laden. 

Shine of beauty, breathe of love. 

Woo the timid maiden. 

“Woo her when, with rosy blush 
Summer eve is sinking; 

When, on. rills that softly gush. 

Stars are softly winking ; 

When through boughs that knit the bower 
Moonlight gleams are stealing ; 

Woo her, till the gentler hour 
Wakes a gentler feeling.” 

“But Saul, to be real earnest in this matter, I shall 
be obliged to present proof or fail. She is very con- 
scientious, and will be exceedingly careful how she 
allows me the privilege of approaching her; that I 
could plainly understand. She as well as others 


152 


The Starless Crown. 


have supposed Sophia and me as good as one for the 
past two years. Now to take so sudden a turn is 
worth a thought. I do not blame Lizzie for being 
distant. In fact I love her all the more for it. I 
made no special proposition; I did not dare to, she 
would have cut me off at once. I did, however, 
introduce the idea far enough for her to understand 
my motive, which she did and agreed to give it 
thought, but it took some minutes’ thinking to say it. 
I began to despair, but — ” 

‘‘What next, Harrison.^” 

“I could not express it accurately.” 

“It would interest me to know,” said Saul. 

‘4 tell you the candid truth. Things did slip too 
rapidly through my mind. There was not, just 
then, the retention I should have wished.” 

“Don’t tell it, Harrison; come right to the point. 
A story is never more interesting than when it 
strikes the center.” 

“That has not yet been struck, but, Saul, don’t 
bother me, I want to think.” 

Saul instantly struck a match, and after having 
lighted a lamp, placed it where he could watch the 
expression of Harrison’s eyes. 

“ Saul, what were you wishing to see.” 

“You more perfectly. Can you not discern more 
distinctly, Harrison.^” 

“Not an}’, as Lizzie is not here; but Saul how I 
wish you could see her as I now do, with those 
sweet blushes on her cheeks.” 

‘ ‘ Did she blush, ITarrison ? ’ ’ 

“ O, bless you, yes. I would not have believed it. 
It was that which helped furnish the standard of hope. 
Whilst perhaps I could look hopefully forward, I 


A Second Call. 


'53. 


can but turn a thought to Sophia, and when I do, I 
feel like a man with a paek on my back, I can think 
of no better comparison. It is for this reason that I 
need your influence. 'I am sure I do. Your word 
is termed ‘solid bottom truth.’ Your statement of 
facts given to Lizzie, as you know them, would 
operate in my behalf and should my engagement 
with Sophia be the prime obstacle it would at once 
be removed, and we could be united heart and hand 
soon. I should not want to wait long. I want no 
more long courtship. If I am to have a wife, I am 
going to have her. I should like to get settled down 
and know I had a mate. But Saul, were I to lose 
Lizzie, I should be no better off than you are. All 
that is beautiful in this world would have faded. I 
could not do otherwise than say with Byron: 

“ ‘Would fain have loved as well, 

But some unconquerable spell 
Forbade my beating breast to own 
A kindred care for aught but one.’ ” 

Harrison’s second call was more lengthy, and 
much more impressive to the mind of Lizzie. An 
emotion of tenderness was plainly exhibited on the 
part of Harrison, and though touching to the heart 
of Lizzie, she was slow to get possession of that which 
was a certainty. She reasoned, as had been sug- 
gested, that Harrison had been for so long a time 
Sophia’s escort and exclusive attendant, “How,” 
said she, “can your mind be so suddenly changed.” 

In reply Harrison said, “Whilst your reasonings 
are well grounded, I can give you such proof as will 
fully convince you that my statement is correct, and 
that too by one who has been more familiar in this 
matter than myself, and at an earlier period.” 


The Starless Crown. 


154 

For a moment Lizzie’s face wore a puzzled look, 
which signified to Harrison’s mind: ‘H can’t believe!” 

Harrison was deepi}' affected. It was not neces- 
sary that he should audibly express his disappoint- 
ment. He felt almost beyond hope. ‘‘My portion! 
my portion! ” He solemnly and silently exclaimed, 
as he sat with his eyes apparently fixed upon some 
distant object, and when the tear drops had filled 
them to overflowing, the heart of Lizzie melted 
perceptibly. 

“I would not be unfeeling,” she uttered with 
trembling lips; “but I cannot, Mr. Harrison, see 
through this veil.” 

“Will you allow me to remove the veil,” said he. 

“I will,” was her reply. 

After a few words on the part of both had been 
feelingly spoken, Harrison left to return again the 
same day. He walked directly to the law office, 
but as fate would have it, he was destined to a long 
delay. Saul could decipher the problem. He under- 
stood the meaning of the expression on Harrison’s 
countenance. While he could not postpone the busi- 
ness that devolved upon him, he would frequently 
raise his large eyes and look upon Harrison with that 
fixed attention that denoted the sensitiveness of a 
mind awakened in his behalf. 

Time often seems long and drear to the waiting 
one, and it did to Harrison at this time, when he 
felt his future was at stake. Saul made every pos- 
sible advancement in his power, and at length the 
two were once more alone. After he had gotten a 
history of the story, he said: “That is not so dis- 
couraging as I supposed. To take the broader, more 
general view, she is not far out of the way. I think 


Saul as an Intercessor. 


55 


it better to see her than write a note. Face to face 
is better always. If you wish I will see her alone 
or in company with you. Crush out this wall of 
perdition, and she can then see through the veil.” 

‘‘ You had better .see her alone,” said Harrison. 

There would be more freedom on both sides. I 
do not wish to be shown in a false light. I wish her 
to see things as the}^ are, and understand every par- 
ticular from its center to its circumference. I want 
her confidence; I want her to see and know that I 
am ‘d3^ed in the wool.’” 

“All right, I will go,” and at once Saul started 
on his mission of love and good will. 

He had naturally a ver^^ commanding appearance, 
but could assume a soft, mild amiability that was 
as gentle as a lamb. Such were his predominant 
characteristics, he was well calculated to fill the 
chief of stations from the most arduous of business 
responsibilities to the mildest mission of love and 
charity. It is natural to believe he bore under the 
circumstances at this time that gentle carriage so 
well calculated to achieve and conquer. Nor was 
his effort unavailing. He was not long in giving a 
historical sketch of Harrison’s life as a beau during 
the time he had been in the family; and the circum- 
stances connected with Harrison’s impression in her 
behalf, previous to Sophia’s letter asking for a 
release from her engagement. He zealously recom- 
mended him to her confidence and esteem, with the 
assurance of his devoted attachment. 

Ver}/^ soon after Saul left, Lizzie sought solitary 
retirement. She did not feel she needed the advice 
or opinion of any individual in the matter. She 
wished to make an investigation that would corrob- 


156 


The Starless Crown. 


orate with the rarer qualities of natural super-excel- 
lence such as refine the conscience and enthrone the 
right. Therefore as she sat with her elbows resting 
upon the table, her hands propping a thoughtful 
forehead, her mind traveled through realms of space, 
like a picturesque scene, to a garden of flowers, 
where it conceived ideas new and beautiful and bore 
them back upon the wings of thought. “If these 
are,” she reasoned, “visionar}' endearments, what 
can realities be?” Her heart mellowed; her sensi- 
bility changed as if under the influence of some 
supernatural power. The tears gushed forth, she 
exclaimed aloud, “O God! Thou hast a fountain 
stirred, whose waters never more shall rest.” The 
prayer of Harrison had been granted. Lizzie was 
no longer burdened with the yoke of fear and dread, 
but was happy with the belief that her prospects for 
life had all the glow that nature could give. The 
sentiment contained in the rhyme once sung, now 
became authenticated : 

“Woo her till the gentler hour, 

Wakes a gentler feeling.” 

With this change of heart, Lizzie could await 
Harrison’s third appearing with unassuming grace. 
The bolt that held closed the door of hope was 
unbarred, and who will can follow the thread of 
imagination, and conceive with profound admiration 
the expanded sentiments of love, joy and peace that 
united to complete the union, and cause the heart of 
Harrison to overflow with gratitude and thankfulness. 
It is now that we see them full of hopeful happiness 
in life’s green spring, bound with that thread of 
influence calculated to knot all that may be termed 
as world-worth}’. With so noble an outfit of honor 


Not in Gay Attire. 


157 


and personal development, there only remained the 
nuptial festivity to be considered. 

“It does not agree with my feelings under the 
present condition of things,” said Lizzie, “to be 
adorned with costly silks and laces and have our 
marriage attended with mirth and gayety. I should 
be neatly attired in a plain robe, pretty and becom- 
ing, one calculated to correspond with our position 
as converts awaiting our baptism. ' Have the mar- 
riage service either conducted publicly at the church 
or as retired as possible at home.” 

Harrison drank in these words as they fell from 
the lips of Lizzie like a draught of refreshing water. 

“I know,” said Saul, “a plan that would exactly 
agree with my feelings, and should it agree with 
yours, I should be pleased to know it was adopted. 
It would be one of renown, and might have a good 
and lasting impression upon many.” 

After openly expressing it, each looked stead- 
fastly at the other for a few minutes, after which 
Harrison remarked that he “had not thought as far 
as that;” then turned his eyes considerately towards 
Lizzie as if to await her reply. 

“I am favorably impressed,” she answered. 

The question was then passed to the parents, who 
could see no impropriety, and willingly gave their 
consent. Shortly after which the last needful prep- 
aration was concluded that was to complete the 
matrimonial engagement, and place Harrison and 
Lizzie in the holy bond of wedlock. 

Saul’s delight was exhibited in every look, turn 
and tone, and with that heartfelt reverence in their 
behalf as he was about to leave them, jokingly said 
“My least wish for you is, that your lives may have 
a long continuance.” 


The Starless Crown. 


158 


CHAPTER XX. 


When the mind has become frantic, disturbed 
by inconsistent apprehensions, it is apparently quite 
as uncontrollable in this tendency as though the dis- 
turbance were based upon reality. 

It was the decided opinion of Sophia, Dr. Green 
and Aunt Sabrina, that Saul, Mr. Harrison and one 
other, whose*name will not be given, had covenanted 
together, that by their forming a trinity, on their 
part an effort could be made an unquestionable suc- 
cess, and the engagement permanently overthrown 
between Sophia and Dr. Green. This belief mad- 
dened them, until there did arise, according to their 
view of the matter, an actual foreseen danger. 

At the period of which we have previously spoken. 
Aunt Sabrina’s turbulent disposition would not allow 
her to swerve, but soon after the Doctor’s return, 
she made her way into the parlor with a pale and 
haggard look, so much so as though she had but 
barely escaped a violent tempest, or the clutch of a 
straying despei^ado. The Doctor observed her de- 
portment, and without hesitation uttered an uncourt- 
eous expression, to which she responded: “How 
can I help it. The war cloud is settlin’ near us with 
its blackness and darkness. I can almost see the 
flashes of lightnin’, and hear the roar of thunder in 
the distance. And we can’t tell how soon it may be 
upon us.” Then, Sophia, with tearful eye, turned 
to the Doctor and said: ‘‘Saul and Tom are having 
consultation this afternoon.” 


The Doctor Defiant. 


159 


Is it possible.^” said the Doctor, who with agitated 
fur}^, and tuniultuous threats, sprang to his feet, and 
drawing a revolver from his pocket, took his stand 
near the center of the room, with his right arm 
straightened to a horizontal position, wildly exclaim- 
ing, with his eyes fixed upon the revolver “Do you! 
do you see.^ If I must come to that, it must come, 
Harrison must, he shall, be brought to an under- 
standing.” 

Sophia shrieked aloud, and fainting, sunk back. 
The Doctor turned with a confused look, and as he 
saw her fearful condition, mellowed down with warm 
expressions of sympathy and regard, but soon found 
his words were a poor and ineffectual remedy. 
During his absence to an apothecary-shop to procure 
the needful drug. Aunt Sabrina endeavored to soothe 
and comfort Sophia as best she could, ‘Tt’s no use 
talkin’ it. You can’t be wife to both,” she said. 

‘‘No indeed,” responded Sophia tremblingly, “I 
cannot be. It is hard I know, poor Tom, but if he 
will . only let me alone to do as I please, I can love 
him, too.” 

“I think it hard enough to be hated,” said Aunt 
Sabrina, “but of the two, I do believe I would as 
soon be hated as over-rated, if this is the way it 
goes.” 

Very soon after the Doctor returned, he called 
Aunt Sabrina aside, and told her it would be nec- 
essary to have Sophia’s feelings tenderly regarded. 
That she was undergoing altogether too much excite- 
ment and that it would overbalance her constitution 
unless every pi'ecaution was used that was possible 
to avoid it. “It is not advisable,” he continued, 
‘ ‘ to refer to Harrison in an}’ way whatever. If a 


i6o The Starless Crown. 

cloud, as you presume to think, settles upon us, and 
things must come to the worst, I shall with all fury 
take vengeance on my adversary. Saul and Harri- 
son I do not fear, one alone or both of them. I am 
as brave to do and dare as they are, and sufficiently 
able, ready and willing to confront both, either to 
conquer or to die. But as I say, this must be kept 
from Sophia, we cannot tell how it may terminate; 
it is possible a light may break through the gloom. 
Such things do when unlooked for many times 
occur.” 

“I have been buildin’ a good deal,” said Aunt 
Sabrina, ‘‘on his gettin’ religion, but I’m feeling 
almost discouraged.” 

“Yes, yes, this religion is but a shabby cloak. 
We cannot depend upon these religious professors. 
They are, at least many of them, very imperfect 
in their restoration from prodigality.” 

For some days Sophia was kept within doors, 
secluded from even the sight of her own people. In 
time it became rumored that she was ill, and, as 
might be supposed. Aunt Trichie made frequent 
calls, but was not allowed to see her for fear she 
might be the means of producing some unnecessary 
agitation of mind. 

One day, soon after she had left, the Doctor pro- 
ceeded to where Aunt Sabrina was engaged, and 
said to her, “Why do you recognize that peculiar 
old mortal.^ I should not allow her to cross my 
threshold unless it was for medical attention.” 

Aunt Sabrina was very much irritated with the 
Doctor’s remark, and in spite of her effort to 
restrain her feelings, showed signs of disgust. And 
readily signified her good will in behalf of Aunt 


A Good Word for Aunt Triciiie. i6i 

Trichie by saying “I think her a good ways short 
of bein’ the least of all that is small.” 

‘‘I am much obliged to you, Aunt Sabrina, for 
your freedom and generosity in favor of Aunt 
Trichie. She is one who should be regarded with 
interest. She is daily doing the work of one of 
God’s husbandmen,” said Saul, who had entered 
within hearing, unnoticed, and walked in unexpect- 
edly before them, striking his heels heavily upon the 
floor in token of his indignation. 

Immediately after he had passed out Sophia said, 
‘‘Mother, that may have been a word fitl}’ spoken. 
It is an old saying ‘that there is no great loss without 
some small gain.’ If the Doctor did inflict a serious 
wound just then it may result in our benefit.” 

“That is as I think, too; I am awful glad Saul 
happened to hear me say it. He may feel a good 
deal better for havin’ heard me.” 

“ I don’t think the Doctor meant ill to Aunt 
Trichie. He does not fully understand her. Does 
not know who or what she is. Saul did not at first, 
but the dear bless me, he and the Starkys have got 
her so under their influence, and, as they think, 
such a blessing to the church, it would not do 
to infringe upon her a particle. You see,” said she, 
turning to the Doctor, “ they think her next to the 
angels in heaven. If you wish the good will of 
church society in this place, you will have to treat 
Aunt Trichie very respectfully.” 

“Yes,” said Aunt Sabrina, “here we all know 
her. She is funny and old-fashioned. She loves to 
know all that ’s going on, and never forgits to tell 
it; but after all she’s got a dreadful good heart. I 
do believe she’d work herself to death for the good 


i 62 


The Starless Crown. 


of another, and it wouldn’t make any difference 
either whether it was friend or foe.” 

“Then I must consider myself as having been 
quite out of the way,” said the Doctor. “I hope 
you will pardon me. Much depends upon one’s 
earl_y education. It is ver}’ true I suppose, I may 
some time see the necessity of curbing these aristo- 
cratic notions of mine. They are implanted in my 
nature, I inherited them.” 

‘‘I have thought man}" times,” said Sophia, “since 
I first saw you, that you closely resembled Saul, you 
are both naturally so high toned in appearance. 
There is but one exception; he has the one fault 
that I term imperfection, that is, he is so dyed with 
Christianity.” 

After the lapse of a few days. Aunt Trichie 
walked in and said, “I thought mebbe you’d like to 
go this evenin’ to the meetin’ house, so I ’d jist drop 
in and tell you. There are to be ever so many bap- 
tized. Will you go.^” 

‘>Why, yes, I expect I will, I always calculate 
to go when there is to be any baptizin’ done.” 

In a moment after Aunt Trichie had left, Sophia 
rushed in saying, ‘‘What was it Mother.^ What 
did she say.^” 

‘,‘ There’s to be a lot more baptized this evenin’.” 

“O bless me, can’t I go.^” 

“That will have to be jist as the Doctor says, you 
know he ’s dreadfully scared about you for fear you 
will become, as he says it, over-balanced.” 

“I do not think it will hurt me one bit to go. 
I just think it fun to see them ducked under water. 
I enjoy it, I tell you I do. I wonder who they are, 
did she tell you.^” 


Going to Church. 


163 


‘‘No, and I didn’t ask her.” 

With the- words, “T will,” upon the lip. Dr. Green 
re-entered. “What is that you were talking about 
so very independently.^” said he, “do you not re- 
member that you are mine.^” Then taking a fast 
hold of her went sailing round the room, jig-like, 
at the sight of which Aunt Sabrina remarked, “If 
Sophia can stand all that, I think she can stand it to 
go to the meetin’ house.” 

“What! going to the church, were you; is that 
what you were talking about .^” said he. And after 
having been told for what purpose he considered 
more earnestly for a moment, then said, “I do not 
think the walk would prove an injury, but the sight 
might be too much for her nerves, beside, at this 
juncture, it has been thought best to be prudent 
about appearing out too publicly. Should there be 
danger of aggravating Harrison, it might originate 
from outward boldness, sooner than from any other 
cause.” 

Said Sophia, “We will admit all that; but. Doc- 
tor, as I should like so much to go, supposing I go 
with my people, and you by yourself, for this once 
more; are you willing.^ You need not either be far 
ahead or behind us; besides 3’ou can sit in sight, and 
we can return in company. Would not that do.^” 

“You are a pretty good calculator, but I should 
have to keep close enough to keep my e3^e on 3'Ou, 
or you might show me a trick, and slip away with 
that clever old friend of 3-ours, I am a little fearing.” 

‘ ‘ There ain’t much time to lose, talkin’, ” said Aunt 
Sabrina, “we want to get there early enough to git 
a good seat, so we can see, for if we can’t there’s 
no use in goin’.” 


164 


The Starless Crown. 


' “But Doctor has not given me a definite answer.” 

“Take the indefinite then, just as I did when I 
made a strike for you.” 

“All right,” said Sophia, “be sure that I see you.” 

At an early hour Mr. Brown with his family 
walked to the church, and took seats in a center 
pew, in front of the baptistery. They had a long 
time to wait, but as Aunt Sabrina said, she took 
courage as she knew every future had a present, so 
that what was to be would be. 

Very true. At the regular hour for service the 
people congregated until the audience room was filled 
to its utmost capacity. It was an enjoyable sight 
for Sophia to see the large number of candidates 
walk in by pairs, with ardor and attention, and 
take the seats that had been prepared for them. 

Rev. Standhope then offered a short prayer, which 
was followed by a pause. The reverend gentleman 
raised his right arm as an indication of continued 
silence. Looks were exchanged, anxious eyes in- 
quiringly gazed. The multitude wondered, and 
soon it was whispered “What next.^” 

But they were not long waiting. They soon had 
the pleasure of seeing Saul and Maria walk down 
the aisle in front of the pulpit stand, where they 
parted to the right and left, followed b}^ Harrison 
and Lizzie, who took their position directly between 
the two who had preceded them. Rev. Standhope 
then turned with gravity and with few words made 
complete the sacred rite. After which the baptism 
immediately followed ; Mr. Harrison first, Lizzie 
second. What a praiseworthy exhibition of divine 
reverence! Led from the bridal altar to the baptis- 
mal waters! 


The Marriage Ceremony. 165 

Whilst the multitude of spectators witnessed the 
marriage service with unspeakable surprise, it was 
also with the highest degree of reverence. It was 
well calculated to leave a lasting impression upon 
the mind of every individual present, and as would 
be supposed an impression that would lead to their 
highest good. It was to Mr. and Mrs. Harrison 
the dawning of a new life, and many were the 
congratulations that issued from the lips of their 
devoted friends. 


The Starless Crown. 


1 66 


CHAPTER XXI. 


Those in whom squeamish, fastidious principles 
have been inculcated and remain unmitigated in the 
kingdom of the mind, those principles with their 
painted particles must necessarily rank with their 
own foe, within the bound of individual dominion. 
At this time, then, self-preservation must have found 
an altitude in the region of a war-like dominion. To 
the observing eye, it could have been seen that Aunt 
Sabrina and Sophia retained their ordinary outward 
appearance, but were troubled by unspoken thoughts. 
In this state of mind they wended their way home- 
ward, apparently unnoticing and unnoticed. To 
them it was a time when even words were too 
feeble to express the sentiment of their minds in 
regard to the strange, unlooked-for event. 

‘T could not have believed it,” said Sophia, “that 
Tom would have taken such a step.” 

“Nor I,” responded Aunt Sabrina, “but I’m led 
to believe it’s as wise people say, that love often 
runs in a curious way.” 

“I would a hundred times rather he had taken 
arsenic,” said Sophia, “there would have been more 
joy on my part to have seen him coffined than mar- 
ried, buried under ground than under water.” 

“Jist so, I think, too. It looks a good deal as 
though he couldn’t after all have had much of any 
love for you, to up and turn so square around and 
marry another girl. But then we ’re all through with 


After Consideration. 167 

our war trouble, we sha’n’t have that to think about 
any more, that is one comfort.” 

‘‘I would much sooner think of war, or any other 
thing, no matter what, than of his being husband. 
I did not believe he would ever marry.” 

“I know that is as we thought, but after all 
there ’s never any tellin’ what’s in the mind of a 
man. They’re awful treacherous bein’s.” 

“But, mother, let us be careful what we say 
about Tom before the Doctor. We must make it 
appear all right with us, no matter how we feel. I 
must, anyway. Did you see him at the church.^” 

‘‘No. I wondered where he’d got; but then in 
sich a crowd it could hardly be expected that he 
would be in sight. Maybe he’ll be cornin’ ’long 
with father.” 

After a few minutes of serious thinking, Sophia 
said, “There is one thing I should like to know; 
that is if Tom does really love Lizzie. I don’t 
doubt she does him, but the question is, does he love 
her.^ I do not believe he loves her one bit. It has 
been brought about by some stratagem.” 

“Let that be as it may, we now know they’re mar- 
ried, and it won’t be but a little while and you will be 
Mrs. Dr. Green. What I hope is that you will be 
more decently married. I shouldn’t want to see you 
join hands in holy matrimony and then be plunged 
in the water the first thing. I never was put under 
water, and I am as good as the best of them.” 

“That was done for display. Some appeared 
very much pleased. I overheard some whispering. 
It was said, ‘O, how heavenly; how angel-like; 
how dove-like.’ Then I shut my ears. I didn’t 
want to hear any more of that talk.” 


The Starless Crown. 


1 68 

At this point in the conversation Mr. Brown 
entered, and said, “The Doctor will not be in till late 
to-morrow mornin’,” then turned to leave. 

Do n’t go yet, father,” said Sophia, “I want to 
know what you thought of the performance at the 
church.” 

“I’ve got no heart to talk about it. If it is all 
right, then it is right. You know well what I think 
of this changin’ off business. I had looked upon 
Tom as my son, and I loved him as one of mine. 
And it was hard to me to see another b}^ the side 
of him, so different from what I thought would be. 
I may see things better after awhile, and I don’t 
want to wait long either. But there is one thing I 
do have to comfort me, that I didn’t once have; that 
is, this sweet peace in believin’ I don’t see this world 
any more the old way. I feel like one brought out 
of the world. I wish, my dear wife, and you, my 
daughter, could taste the joy I do every day.” 

“Father,” said Sophia, quickly, “if you keep on 
you will get to be as sanctified as the Starkys.” 

“I hope I may,” he meekly replied, “and my prayer 
is that you may be, sooner or later.” 

“I do not suppose, according to your way of think- 
ing, that 3’ou and I will ever sit together in what you 
call heavenly places. I can derive more comfort 
reading Byron one hour, than I could John Bunyan’s 
whole work, and that is Bible-like. The Doctor 
thinks just as I do. We are a complete tie in such 
matters. For these, as well as many other reasons, 
we are going to make a joint couple. I suppose I 
ought not to care if Tom and Liz are married, so 
long as they have become so saintly. But I did 
want to show the people of our town my potent 


A Beautiful Bride. 


69 


power to win; besides, whilst I was awful sorry for 
Tom, I did want to make his heart-strings snap. I 
do just think it fun to wring up a fellow’s heart and 
make it gush like a fountain.” 

^‘Sophia, you astonish me,” said Aunt Sabrina, 
“I love to see you in good spirits and full of happi- 
ness, but you’re carrying things too fur is what I 
think. Supposin’ somethin’ should happen the Doc- 
tor. He might somehow get killed.” 

‘‘No, he won’t either. He has had his life in- 
sured. It is all going to come just as we have it 
calculated. We are going to take life on life’s side, 
have every joy a pleasure, every pleasure a hope, 
and every hope a heaven. Doctor says so. We 
are not going to hunt our happiness inside the bounds 
of church craft. I have never yet known a sublime 
thing, that the ridiculous did not closely follow.” 

“My child,” said the sorrowing father, “I can’t 
hear any more sich talk. If it is in your heart, don’t 
let it out. I thought may be you ’d be made better 
by goin’ to the meetin’ house this evening.” 

“Likely I would have been, sure of one thing, I 
should have felt better, if they had only made 
more fuss. Everything was too smooth to suit me. 
To come right down to the plain truth, Liz did look 
lovely. I never saw her more beautiful than 
she looked to me this evening, and she is awful 
pretty always. It almost seemed that there was a 
halo or something radiant over her head, both before 
and after she was raised up out of the water. I 
didn’t mean to say it though. I do not want her 
to know I thought that. No! not for a pile. So, 
father, don’t you tell it. I would not have Aunt 
Trichie get hold of that for all the world. Such a 


170 


The Starless Crown 


saying to get abroad would be too good, even though 
I did think it. I would as soon run my head against 
a stone wall as to say it for Liz to hear. You see, 
father, were you to repeat it I should be so angry.”' 

‘‘Well, well,” said the father, “you make my heart 
ache,” and left the room. 

Immediately after he had left Aunt Sabrina said, 
“Sophia is it raly a truth that the Doctor has had 
his life insured.^” 

“Mortal, yes, in four or five companies.” 

“In four or five companies! Why, the dear bless 
me, if that is so then and he should die, you would 
be as well off as though you had got L. H. Benjamin. 
Beside it looks better to marry a young man, and 
then a Doctor too. It does seem as though you are 
sure of a good fortune. I’m turr’ble glad of it, it 
makes me feel as light as a feather,” she added as 
she passed out to retire for the night. 

But Sophia was altogether too unsettled for retire- 
ment. Before she could allow sleep to close her 
eyes, she squared and leveled her plans with the 
determination to have them at once carried into 
execution. At the first appearance of dawn, she 
was up and doing. The sheets were soon paged, 
the prelude written and dedication accomplished. 
The title page only remained to be considered when 
she was summoned to breakfast. 

As soon as Saul had left the table, she explained 
to her father the necessity of her having means to 
carry her work to a publishing house. 

“All ready, is it.^” he asked. 

“I have made it so,” she replied, “anyhow it is 
going.” 

“What are you goin’ to call it.^” 


The Manuscript Completed. 


171 

‘‘If you can wait a little, I think I can hx up the 
title page, then you can see for yourself iust as it 
will be.” 

It did not take her long to pen it down. It was- 
as follows: 


REALITIES, 


ARGUMENTS AND ADVENTURES; 


OK 


STORY-TELLING TALES. 


By Miss Sophia Bkown. 


Dublin Hill Center: 
Hacker, Higdol & Co., Publishers. 


“There it is, does not that look all right 
Pleased with the appearance, the deluded father 
heartily laughed, “I guess you will make your mark 
in the world,” said he, “that looks a good deal like 
it;” and he readily agreed to furnish means to have 
her carry her work to the publishing compan}^, with 
the liberty given her to make her own bargain. 

The Doctor in a short time appeared with a perfect 


72 


The Starless Crown. 


halloo. His exhibition of delight was very forcibly 
expressed in innumerable comparisons and episodes, 
after which he confronted Aunt Sabrina and said 
with emphasis: 

" Thou hast seen many sorrows, traveled-stained pilgrim of the world, 

But that which hath vexed thee most, hath been the looking for evil ; 

And though calamities have crossed thee, and misery been heaped on thy 
head. 

Yet ills that never happened have chiefly made thee wretched.” 

Then turning to Sophia, said, ‘That was an inter- 
esting sight we saw last evening, wasn’t it.^ Well 
all I have to sa}^ is every one to his notion. I think, 
dear madam, after you shall have published your 
present work, you might write 3’our biography. 
Some people have life stories, many and long enough 
to fill a large volume before they reach the center 
of a common life time, and there is no mistake you 
have made a good beginning that wa}\” 

“A pretty good beginning, that seems ever so 
much so; I shall be able to realize it more fully after 
having returned from the metropolis.” 

“What metropolis.^ Going soon, were you.^” 

“ Yes, T shall go this week, if nothing happens to 
prevent, in less than two days.” 

Hitting her a light tap on the shoulder, “Hurry- 
ing up, are you.^” said the Doctor. 

“Sure,” she replied, “to let too many get ahead 
will not do.” 

“A prett}^ smart little lady you are to have accom- 
plished the work of a noted genius in so short a time. 
I shall feel above commonalty when I have in my 
possession a volume of your own production. We 
read that, ‘a great mind is an altar on a hill,’ such 
is your renowned capital, I suppose.” 


To A Great City. 


173 


“ Speak consistently, Doctor, you know we also 
read that, ‘flattery sticketh closer than a burr.’ 
Since it has become so natural for me to confide in 
you, you might lead me to say, ‘ folly thou art wis- 
dom.’” 

“Were I to, you would bless me for the lie.” 

To an observer it could have been said that no 
union of hearts could have been more closely bound 
by the tie of genuine affection, than that of Dr. 
Green to Sophia. It was, indeed, an attempt alto- 
gether too venturesome for her to be trusted alone 
upon an errand of the kind to a strange city, and he 
strongly opposed her going, unless in company with 
some friend upon whom she could rely for guidance 
and protection. Sophia argued that she was capable 
of going alone; that she could voyage the world, and 
had no fear, or apprehension of danger. She con- 
sidered herself self-sufficient; looked, without doubt, 
upon the step as one of bravery, attended with honor, 
which was very fortifying. With this unbroken 
confidence in her own capability, the needful prepa- 
rations were made, and without repeating the 
objections which arose, Sophia at an early hour of 
the da}^ fixed upon, with her portfolio of manuscript, 
took the train, to return immediately after the busi- 
ness was fully transacted. 

In a few hours she had safely reached the main 
entrance of an immense publishing building, whose 
occupants were the worthy wits, with brains brim- 
ming with cultivated knowledge. Such do ordin- 
arily have an overwhelming influence over minor 
subjects. If there is anything calculated to cause a 
person to feel theniselves pared down to the size 
of a flea, it is to enter a large publishing house, and 


174 


The Starless Crown. 


attempt to lay one’s own articles of composition 
before gifted men, who sit, if we may so speak, ‘^as 
towers upon a thousand hills.” It is not really 
known" however, that Sophia suffered any incon- 
venience, or felt in any way overawed, but believe 
something of the kind was realized, as it was some- 
how understood, that the beautiful tint excitement 
had dyed upon her cheeks changed to a lily white. 
For rudeness to take the place of courtesy in a wise 
man would be inconsistency. Courtesy is a valuable 
ingredient in the grand principle of manhood. It is 
therefore natural to believe the fair lady received all 
the attention her position demanded, which was 
simply the reception of the pages, with the assurance 
that due attention would be given them. That if it 
was considered a creditable work, after the examina- 
tion, an agreement could be made, should she be 
pleased with their terms of publishing. In case the 
work was considered not worthy of public notice, 
the manuscripts were to be immediately returned. 

Sophia readily understood that their rule of action 
was discipline, and their discipline a law, and that 
there could be nothing beyond their definite de- 
cision, which when made, consisted of no greater 
multiplicity of words than an ordinar}’ telegraph 
dispatch. During the few minutes’ conversation, 
Mr. Hacker, with a gentlemanly air, inquired of 
Sophia what her feelings would be in case the work 
•merited no favor. She jestingly replied that ‘Ht 
will make no particular difference, as I have more 
than one iron in the fire.” 

With this termination she left the house for the 
union depot. Nothing of moment occurred during 
her stay there, and as the trains were on time, be- 


Home Again. 


75 


tween the hours of sunrise and setting, Sophia had 
accomplished her mission, and was a happy occupant 
once more under the parental roof. 

It was indeed a happy time for all interested in 
the enterprise. Especially those who looked hope- 
fully forward to the harvest gathering. To more 
perfectl}^ express it, hearts were not only happy but 
exceedingly joyful. From the expression of her 
eye it was supposed she had met with brilliant suc- 
cess, when it merely denoted the success in obtaining 
acceptance and general courtesy, with the degree 
of fortitude given her to venture upon so notable an 
errand as to convey her manuscript to a publishing 
company. 

It made for her an illustrious tale to communicate, 
which she did to the hearing of itching ears that 
were ready to catch every accent as it fell from her 
lips. After listening to the story, it was rather sad 
for Aunt Sabrina to know, that the bargain was not 
wholly consummated. She had supposed there would 
be nothing more to be done, but await the printing 
and binding of books. 

Said she, ‘‘Why could you not have talked them 
into a bargain now, whilst you were there ^ 

“O, forever, mother. I could as well plough the 
sea as to reason and change the minds of those men. 
And you better believe when I was once seated in 
the car for home there came a flash of glory over 
me. It is as I tell you, they have a system to go 
by, and from that they will not deviate. They will, 
as I have said, examine the work, after which the 
agreement as to terms of publishing can be made. 
I shall only have to wait a few days, during which 
time we can go on just the same way and be doing. 


176 


The Starless Crown. 


for it will, of course, be a success. It could not 
well be otherwise. It is all truth — that I have not 
turned into fiction — and it is as well written as any 
one can write, so why should it not be.^” 

With this easy, persuasive credulity of mind, she 
was abundantly prepared to arrange everything to 
the satisfaction of the family. It was the opinion 
of the Doctor that their marriage had better be 
postponed until the dawning of flowery June, which 
was considered advisable by all parties, as it would 
give, as Aunt Sabrina said, “a little more time to 
turn around.” 

With this tide of prosperity, so nearly to pass 
over them, it was not thought unwise to discuss the 
probabilities of what to-morrow would bring. “ I 
purpose that you, father, shall have,” said Sophia, 
“a nice sofa-cushioned self-rocker for your comfort, 
and I will get for mother a rich silk; that would 
suit her best. My brothers shall have a velocipede 
to ride, with whistles and bells. What things es- 
pecially pleasing Doctor and I shall have, I hardly 
know, unless it should be a cage of tame birds or 
bees.” 

‘‘Who ever heard tell of such a thing as a cage 
of tame bees.^” said little Bob. 

“Doctor has. He said it was one of the prettiest 
sights he ever saw. A cage of tame bees, from the 
huge bumblebee to the little yellow jacket. He has 
told me about them. They were a great curiosity, 
do you not believe it.^” 

“No, Soph! that’s gas.” 

“It’s candid truth. Bob, or he would not have 
told me about them. Doctor tells the truth.” 

“Your cage of bees will be, he a wasp and you 


A Terrible Disappointment. lyy 

honey-bee,” was the reply, then with a boy-like 
prank frolicked off on the green to sport. The days 
were mild and lovely. To Sophia the night hours 
brought dreams of pleasure. Happiness was as 
surely forthcoming as the clover blossoms, and sure 
as the stars in a cloudless night. She took no notice 
of danger. She found no place for misfortune. 
Over all was the rainbow of hope. Prosperity was 
enshrined. Her life was to be a round of pleasure, 
and in this seeming hallowed lot, to her pure as the 
joy of angels, a few days swiftly glided awa}^; but 
in their unerring flight the mist of sorrow was 
thickly gathering before her unconscious eyes. 

Ere she was aware the manuscript was returned 
with an enclosed note which read: 

Dear Madam: — Your manuscripts have been duly no- 
ticed. We return them. We also feel it a duty to advise you 
to lay your papers vv^here you have your irons. 

Could we but use the words disappointment, sad- 
ness, sorrow, gloom, we should be glad; but they 
are not sufficient to convey the meaning required. 
Indeed it is difficult to select language that will 
mirror to human conception the unparalleled suffer- 
ing of her, who, with her preparation of mind, was 
so suddenly thrown from the mount of imaginary 
fame and tranquillity into a gulf of woebegone mis- 
fortune. Her sufferings could only be compared to 
the blow of a dagger to her heart, excruciating 
agony. The father kneeled in prayer. The mother 
sobbed aloud. The brothers hid as if from some 
rude torture. The Doctor alone stood with calm, 
undisturbed look and watched closely by her. It 
was to Sophia like an hour spent in the gateway of 


12 


78 


The Starless Crown. 


death. It was remarked later by the Doctor that 
he thought her assuredly upon the threshold of eter- 
nity. His efforts to restore her were at last suc- 
cessful. As soon as he could get her to notice him, 
he said to her, ‘‘This is not the way to matrimony,” 
which brought a faint smile upon her countenance. 
How quickly that smile was caught by those 
anxious parents, who were ready at the first ap- 
pearance of hope to rejoice, exclaiming “There, that 
is worth more than a thousand books.” 

To soothe, calm and comfort her occupied the 
attention of their agitated minds. Their hearts 
were brimful with sympathy and all possible words 
of consolation were multiplied in her behalf. 

The first words audibly spoken by Sophia were, 
“ O Doctor, what would have become of me, had it 
not been for you. I had thought there was nothing 
better than gold; but, Doctor, you are of more 
value than that.” At which time Dr. Green bent 
over her with all the warmth of a genuine friend, 
“lam afraid,” he mildly said, “you overrate me; 
bad men are as common as birds.” ► Then placing 
his hand upon her head and smoothing her jetty 
locks, he said, “There is no resting place for the 
wing of time; with it the vicissitudes of life go by 
never to return.” 

“I am glad to know,” said Sophia, “that there 
can be no return of the past, I should not want it 
otherwise. I do not want to look again toward the 
deluded palace of hope, which these many months I 
have been building with twigs gathered by ambition 
from the wilderness of thought. No! not I; from 
this time evermore I will put my trust in the Doctor 
who is indisputably true to me.” With her confi- 


Disappointed Again. 


179 


dence as firmly fixed as the eternal hills, her affec- 
tions as deep as the waters of the sea, she leaped 
over the unfortunate past into the more pleasing 
path of the present which was illumined with bright 
anticipations that lay before her in the sunny future. 
In less than one short week, so unlooked for, and 
unthought of, just as night had cast her dark mantle, 
and the uplifted clouds curtained the stars from sight. 
Dr. Green walked in, took Sophia’s hand, shook it 
with a firm grasp, kissed her affectionately and said. 
You must keep up good courage, and be a good 
girl,” he then hastily turned and with quick steps 
left her. At what hour in the night he took his 
final exit from the town, in what way, for what part 
of the continent he was bound, remains untold to 
this day. 


i8o 


The Starless Crown. 


CHAPTER XXII. 


Life with its weight of cares moves forward like 
the boisterous waves of the sea. The events of 
the past are retained in memory, destined to be 
recalled and diffused anew, according to their mag- 
nitude and importance. In the history of years, 
there are occurrences which, though they difter in 
their signification, and proportion are tinged with a 
light or dark coloring. The more pleasing experi- 
ences are delightfully cherished in memory as a 
delicious substance; whilst unpleasant acts or inci- 
dents such as should preferably be lost in oblivion will 
also linger in remembrance even upon the threshold 
of memory, until the latest stage of life shall have 
worn away; hence there is being formed in the 
human mind a vocabulary of reminiscences. Were 
it otherwise, the poet could not have said : 

“ Hence away, nor dare intrude, 

In that secret shadowy cell 
Musing mem’ry loves to dwell. 

With her sister solitude. 

Far from the busy world she flies. 

To taste that peace the world denies ; 

^ Entranced she sits from youth to age. 

Reviewing life’s eventful page, 

And noting ere they fade away. 

The little lines of yesterday.” 

How important then that a valuation should be 
placed upon the motive of action, in order to have 


Sophia’s Sorrow. 


i8r 


carried out a theory of ordained principles, such as 
give to memory a pleasurable enlightened deposit 
rather than throw over conscience the dull dark scarf 
of unmindful reproach. It was in this particular that 
Sophia was so deficient; she regarded not the judi- 
cious principles according to the general law of a 
good conscience. She failed to endorse the higher 
mode of practice, but voluntarily allowed her unre- 
generated mind to acquiesce with non-conformity to 
reason, rather than adhere to the wisdom of the 
wise in their demonstrations in her behalf; therefore 
her contemplations became, not of those calculated 
to enthrone the mind with the purer aspects of bright 
realities, but like a pall over her recollections was 
hung the dark curtain of despondency. It was hard 
for her to think otherwise of Dr. Green than that he 
was as pure as the sun. She could not see upon his 
fair brow the type of deceit. She could not think 
that in his bosom was hidden the badge of infamous 
ignominy. In her distress of mind she would cry, 
‘‘He will return, I know he will. Doctor is too good 
to be untrue to me,” and with this unbroken confi- 
dence she looked for him in vain, until despair swept 
over her and her faith died. But, Oh! how often 
during those gloomy hours of sadness was she heard 
to hum those pathetic lines from Byron, and say 
with emphasis “I would 

“ Fly like a bird of the air, 

In search of a home and a rest, 

A balm for the sickness of care, 

A bliss for a bosom unblessed. 

I would wander, it matters not where. 

No clime can restore me my peace. 

Or snatch from the frown of despair 
A cheering, a fleeting release.” 


i82 


The Starless Crown. 


This discomfort of mind on the part of Sophia, 
which was keenly felt by the family, especially the 
parents, was truly sad. It was complicated sorrow 
and disappointment to all. While the father could 
look heavenward, and derive comfort from the foun- 
tain of divine grace, and cling to the belief that all 
things work together for good to those who love 
God, there was a division of feeling and mode of 
expression, as the mother’s mind was earthward and 
could not see beyond temporal things. The father 
endeavored to advise, warn and encourage Sophia 
to look above the world to her elder Brother, and 
learn from her sad experience to accept Him for a 
friend who is the chief friend of friends — one who 
would not leave her nor forsake her. The mother 
soothed with a mother’s affection, and taught her in 
the light of her own judgment, which was quite as 
erroneous as Sophia’s. 

‘H wouldn’t give up and grieve myself to death 
for one man. Tom didn’t for you; he turned square 
’round and took Liz. There is no tollin’ but there 
will be another for you a hundred times better than 
Green; and we do know he’d be better if he’d be 
honest. I feel as sorry as I can feel, but then, if 
Dr. Green is a bad man, he isn’t a good one, and if 
he isn’t a good one you don’t want him. If he has 
a mind to make of himself a poppy instead of a 
pink, let him.” 

“But Doctor, is so beautiful in both looks and 
manners.” 

“Yes, but he ain’t any the better for it; beauty is 
no kernel. Now you mind what I say, we’ll jist go 
right on with our dressmaking, and after you once 
git fixed up, there’s no tollin’ what may come, I 


Aunt Trichie’s Last Call. 183 

shouldn’t wonder if good luck turned up yet for you. 
I’m feelin’ a good deal better than I did. My dream 
was promisin’ last night. There comes Aunt Tvichie 
this blessed minute. She’s got hold of something 
and is cornin’ round for the proof I darst to sa}^” 

“I am ever so glad to see you,” said Aunt Trichie 
as she walked in, in her usual wa}^, “ I hain’t seen 
you in a long while, Miss Sophia; I came to see you 
when you was sick, but that Dr. Green was so scary 
about you, he would n’t let me have any satisfaction. 
He was afraid I would agitate you. They ’ve been 
tellin’ me all ’round, that he’s run away.” 

“ I thought, ’’said Sophia, “ you were having prayer 
meetings all over the town and talking religion.” 

“O, yes, that is so. Miss Sophia, but then there’s 
always some other sayin’s cornin’ ’long in. You 
see when Tom and Lizzie was married it made all 
the folkses eyes fly wide open, and sez they, seems 
if there ’s been more than doctorin’ goin’ on. It 
’peared queerish like, for everybody all round here 
thought Tom was Sophia Brown’s beau, but, sez they, 
that Dr. Green’s been shovin’ him out, must be. 
Now then, there’s come up this other talk, but sez 
I to Caleb, ‘mebbe Sophia knows, they’re only jist 
keepin’ secrets, shouldn’t wonder!’ ‘Like enough,’ 
sez he, ‘no tellin’, but blessed thing if they wasn’t.’” 

“Why so,” asked Sophia. 

“ Why, because they ’re tellin’ all over round that 
that Dr. Green is trickish; sez they, he lives without 
money, and gets his bread without pay.” 

“Don’t tell any more. Aunt Trichie, I do not feel 
like hearing town stories. If the majority here have 
become piety lovers, they should manifest it by keep- 
ing cleansed their own cup and platter.” 


184 


The Starless Crown. 


“O, I didn’t come in to be meddlin’, I ain’t 
wantin’ to be troublin’ about Dr. Green, I only jist 
come in as I was passin’ by; but my heart is achin’ 
for you. Miss Sophia, and I ’m thinkin’ and wonderin’ 
if there isn’t somethin’ I can do to comfort you like,” 
and proceeded to hint the sentiments of her mind 
too plainly for Sophia to mistake her meaning. 

‘‘It is not worth while for you to crowd upon me 
in such matters, I would not do as you would have 
me ; if I had sorrow enough to sink me, I would not 
please the Starkys as much. They carry the church 
and town. They have you, and have managed to 
get father, that will do.” 

“For a little while. Miss Sophia, only a little 
while. We are livin’ in a world of uncertainties, 
everything keeps changin’ round, but there is one 
certain thing that I keep lookin’ for all the time.” 
Then extending her hand to complete the formal 
good-bye, she said, “there has been laid in Zion a 
sure foundation stone. Will you find it. Miss 
Sophia.^ ” 

With all Sophia’s trouble and disappointment, 
there was nothing more aggravating to her than to 
throw before her the truths of undefiled religion. 
Whilst Aunt Trichie’s heart was very tender in her 
behalf, and she evinced the kindest of feeling and 
when bidding good-bye the tear drops sparkled in 
her eyes, yet Sophia could turn heedlessly from the 
door with the harsh words “I wish I never again 
need see her face. I would as soon be pelted as to 
alwa3's be talked to about getting ready to die. I 
am not going to die, I expect to live.” 

It is not probable she did in her heart, really wish 
ill to Aunt Trichie, but she had reason to grieve for 


The Last of Earth. 


85 


her inhumanity and weep with sorrow-stricken 
blushes of shame. On the morrow, ere the sun 
had reached the meridian, Aunt Trichie was taken 
seriously ill, and in a few hours passed peacefully 
away. Her tranquillity of mind, her unfaltering 
confidence in the Messiah, her desire to depart was 
truly affecting. 

“I am led to question,” said Mrs. Harrison, ‘fin 
the language of the poet.” 

“Will the day ever come, I wonder, 

When I shall be glad to know 
My hands shall be folded under 
The next white fall of the snow? 

That when again the clover 
Wooeth the wandering bee. 

Its crimson tide will drift over 
All that is left of me? 

“When I shall be tired of living. 

And long to go to my rest 
With a cool and fragrant lily 
Asleep on my silent breast ? 

God knoweth Sometime, it may be, 

I shall smile to hear them say, 

‘Dear heart, she’ll not awaken 
At the dawn of another day.’ ” 

“Is it possible,” said Aunt Sabrina, as Saul 
seated himself at the table with tearful eyes, “that 
Aunt Trichie is dead.^ I hadn’t heard one word 
about it. What was the matter with her.^” 

“I am not prepared to say with what disease she 
died, only that her end was peace.” 

“Was you there .^” 

“I was; also Mr. and Mrs. Starky, Mr. and Mrs. 
Harrison and Mrs. Straitgate. The funeral obse- 
quies will be at our church at ten o’clock, day after 
to-morrow.” 


The Starless Crown. 


1 86 

As soon as Saul had left, Aunt ^ Sabrina, accord- 
ing to her customary way of doing, made it conven- 
ient to visit Sophia and impart the news of Aunt 
Trichie’s sudden death. 

There will be a great many out to her funeral; 
I think you’d better go. Don’t you think that 
way.^ You hadn’t best settle down as though you 
was heart-broken; but look right up and straight 
ahead. If you can only get on 3'Our old fashioned 
independence, you will come out, a good deal nearer 
right, accordin’ to my thinkin’.” 

‘T do not know,” said Sophia, “whilst I do not 
feel like trying the world, perhaps I had better 
go.” 

“Yes, I want you should. It will be the best 
way for you. Wh}’, if you set down here at home 
and cry all the time, folks will think you ’re killed, 
whether or no, and will do all the more talkin’. 
You wouldn’t stand any chance at all for good luck. 
It’s likel}^ L. H. Benjamin will be over to the 
funeral. Aunt Trichie stood so high with these 
Christians, as they call themselves, they’ll all be for 
turnin’ out, I shouldn’t wonder.” 

How sad to think of the weight of their unregen- 
erated natures ! Instead of taking life with its vague 
transit, and death with its realities, and considering 
wisely" that life is more than life to live, and that 
death is more than death to die, the tenor of their 
minds seemed to be definitely allied to the indefinite 
relation of life with all its vicissitudes. It did really 
occur to the mind of Aunt Sabrina that there was a 
possibility that Sophia might yet gain the approba- 
tion and esteem of Father Benjamin if the right 
course was pursued, and it was not too well under- 


At the Funeral. 


87 


stood that she had been betrothed to Dr. Green. 
This idea aroused in Sophia’s mind her previous 
determination to win the old gentleman. 

“I do not care,” she said, “I would as soon win 
him. To be looked upon with admiration is no 
small speck in my estimation.” 

“There is nothin’ like tryin’,” said Aunt Sabrina, 
and with all the pride of a mother’s heart, she 
strictly attended to Sophia’s dress in getting her 
ready for the funeral, as much as though she was 
going to a banquet. 

‘T think,” she said, “we better take a corner pew. 
You know where the grandees always set, and you 
know too, the eye. falls first on what is before it. I 
know pretty well how to calculate; I am a pretty 
good hand at it.” 

There is but little room to doubt their purpose 
would have, at least to some degree, proved a suc- 
cess, had it not been that Father Benjamin was 
chosen pall-bearer. 

“I think it a great shame,” said Aunt Sabrina, 
‘That there isn’t men enough in Copperville to bury 
her own dead, without goin’ to Castle Hill and 
Humington. What it could have been for, I don’t 
know, but shouldn’t wonder if it had been some of 
Starky’s gittin’ up. Anyway we’ll find out when 
Saul comes.” And she interrogated him in regard 
to the matter as soon as possible after his return, 
which was immediately after the burial. 

“She was esteemed in the church, and the pall- 
bearers were chosen from among those by whom 
she was most appreciated,” was his reply. 

It was no uncommon thing for Aunt Sabrina and 
Sophia to chat awhile just at night-fall, and more 


The Starless Crown. 


1 88 

particularly so after Dr. Green’s exit from among 
them. Aunt Sabrina ever seemed highly delighted 
with the society of her daughter, quite as much if not 
more than mothers usually are. She took great 
pleasure in planning for her future welfare, as she 
viewed it, and if possible, at this particular time 
more than ever before. By much thought in Sophia’s 
behalf, she had contrived a plan which, if it could 
only be brought about, might be the means of 
bringing Sophia in proximity with L. H. Benjamin, 
the result of which would be more than likely to 
give rise to an extended acquaintance, the only 
needful thing required to get possession of his men- 
tal affection. She thought it much better for Sophia 
to be wife to that old gentleman for the sake of his 
property than feel she was totally without a matri- 
monial alliance in view, destined to grieve as she 
was then grieving. It did not seem to enter Aunt 
Sabrina’s mind for one moment that there could be 
the slightest obstacle in the way to hinder the pro- 
gress of her plan, on the part of L. H. Benjamin. 
She did not know his already established opinion of 
her daughter. She did not understand the motive 
by which he was governed. Therefore, blinded in 
her calculations, she resolved to acquaint Sophia 
with her plan, also her design for bringing it to pass 
which was in a new wa}^ altogether. Between the 
two the conversation was accordingly conducted. 
Whilst Aunt Sabrina would prefer L. H. Benjamin 
to Dr. Green in consequence of his strange disap- 
pearing, and though Sophia was well pleased with 
the new arrangement, she clung to the belief that 
Dr. Green would soon return, and ‘‘Mother,” she 
said, “though he may, or may not come, there could 


More Planning. 


189 


be nothing wrong in my having more than one string 
to my bow, so if your project can be carried out, it 
will be pleasing to me. I can at the same time keep 
my eye out for the Doctor. It is exactly here, 
whilst I would accept the hand of that old gentle- 
man, I wouldn’t; what I mean is, I would for his 
gold, if I knew the Doctor would never return, but 
should he appear, even were I dressed in my wedding 
suit ready to join hands with L. H. Benjamin, I 
would quickly drop out the back door, that I would. 
Mother, I will look and believe he will again come, 
till the last leaf in autumn shall have fallen. If he 
is not here by that time, and I hear nothing from 
him, I will do as I can.” 

“In this plain of yours we are agreed. I endorse 
the movement and you can go ahead; but we must 
watch Saul. I think of what Aunt Trichie used to 
say, that always when she was keepin’ secrets she 
tried to look nateral.” 

Whilst it may be said that the internal faculties 
of the mind are in obscurity, the presiding senti- 
ments of the mind are many times as external as 
otherwise, as mind holds a ruling force over the 
outward actions. It was at once observed that a 
new plan was laid. A new method was being tried. 
It did not need the skill of a philosopher to solve 
the problem. The movement calculated to operate 
in Sophia’s behalf was fortunately foreseen by no 
false-seeing eye, and prudently repulsed. 


90 


The Starless Crown. 


CHAPTER XXIII. 


Could we but slide the bolt, and throw open the 
door at the gateway between the present and future, 
and follow down the dim aisle into the distance, to 
the unseen realities before us, how unreconcilable 
oftentimes would nature be to the conformity of her 
own destiny. But such cannot be. We are glad to 
know the Hand that divided the present from the 
future, who ordered the plan of universal relation- 
ship, set the bounds and barred the door. With 
this unforeseen view then, it is not wisdom to say 
what time will bring, beyond that which lies at the 
furthest end of every individual’s history. To look 
forward, plan and calculate for futurity with judg- 
ment, is just according to circumstances, but cannot 
be made a surety, as the twist of imagination is a 
brittle thread. 

In the history of our story, this truth is plainly 
exemplified. ^The dawning of flowery June had 
passed; events had had their unfavorable ending. 
The series of meetings had closed. Aunt Trichie 
was no more among the living. Sophia was in a 
state of unhappy suspense, unsettled and wavering, 
and with this unsteady tendency of mind, the golden 
days of June, with their sweet roses, the lilies and 
the violets, the green meadows and maple groves 
were to her no more than the iciness of bleak 
December. To contemplate for one moment with 
sympathy in her behalf, we find ourselves at once 


A Discovery. 


191 

prepared to say in reference to her: “How very 
sad and lonely it must be to yearn for some familiar 
face, we never more ma}^ see.” Still time was 
wearing on — each new day with its own changing 
scenes, with no event to particularly mark the page 
of memor}^, until one bright morning, ere June had 
passed away, just as the sun had reached the tree 
tops. Aunt Sabrina said: “I wonder what is going 
on over to Starky’s! Do you see the carriages.^” 

“Yes,” said Sophia, “I do, and I saw L. H. 
Benjamin in the yard, too, only a few moments ago. 
It has come to what I expected. I always knew 
Maria would take that old man for his mansion, 
unless there was some way to veto it. I do not think 
Saul much of a friend, to work out disappointment 
to us. Had he attended to his own affairs, our cal- 
culations might have been a hindrance, so much so, 
that Maria might never have graced the Benjamin 
castle. I look as well as she does, and am quite as 
good, if I do not make as much public show trying 
to do what she calls winning souls to Christ. But 
so it is. We see it right before our eyes. -She is to 
be Mrs. L. H. Benjamin. It maddens me! Ido 
hope she will be cut short in her expectations, by 
length of days being added to him. I hope he will 
live to see one hundred years.” 

“You are right, Sophia, I don’t one bit blame you. 
I wouldn’t give much for all she can ever do for him 
more than you could, besides, for looks, I don’t see 
how any man on ’arth could fancy sich an ornery 
looking piece as she is. What I think is, here jist 
at this trying time, when you are feelin’ so awful 
bad, if somethin’ could have come to have changed 
you like, and kind a got up your spirits, it would 


192 


The Starless Crown. 


been sich a blessed good thing. You see if Dr, 
Green does not come back, and I don’t much believe 
he ever will, he’ll be a dead leaf to you, and don’t 
you know that green leaves spring from the same 
place where the dead ones have died. When Green 
is dead in your heart, love for some other one will 
start and spring all new again. I tell you there’s a 
great many in this world that you ain’t seen, and jist 
as good as any you ever have, but this very minute 
I ’m feelin’ mad, like yourself, to think Maria has 
got to be made what I should n’t wonder you could 
have been. It does seem that a little pewter polish, 
and a few line things, take, after all, the shine off of 
real genuine born beauty.” 

In a similar way the conversation continued until 
the guests were leaving Mr. Starky’s, when, much to 
their surprise, they saw Saul with a lady at his side, 
also Mr. and Mrs. Harrison pass toward the depot, 

“Heaven bless me!” exclaimed Aunt Sabrina, “I 
don’t know what won’t come next. I would as soon 
have expected to see a rose-bud grown from a 
honeysuckle vine, as to have seen Saul with a 
woman hangin’ on his arm.” 

‘‘Why, mother, do you not suppose Saul has taste 
for ladies’ society. He did have once, I expect, but 
a little bad luck has fixed him as stationary as the 
Alps.” 

“I don’t believe in any sich a way of doin’. I 
like to see things movin’ on to compare with what 
that man said. It was somethin’ like this, ‘how the^ 
world wags; from hour to hour we ripen and ripen, 
and then from hour to hour we rot and rot, and 
thereby hangs a tale.’ It was somehow so; any- 
way I’ve heard Saul tell it.” 


Saul’s Trick. 


193 

“That is as I thought, mother; I hardly believed 
you had read it. Since he has been with us we 
hear many such quotations which otherwise we 
should not have known.” 

It occurred to Saul’s mind that a little joke would 
not be out of place under the circumstances; and pre- 
pared for it by straightening his face down long, 
chafing his eyes until they were considerablv red- 
dened; then with a slow step walked in, directly 
placing himself before Sophia, who at once observed 
him and said, “What has happened.^ You look 
rather blue.” 

After a moment’s pause he answered in a sad, 
low tone, “ Mr. Starky has lost two of his family 
this morning.” 

“Lost two of his family! Two of his family!” 
echoed through the rooms. “The dear me, which 
ones.^” cried Aunt Sabrina, with wild excitement, 
“You don’t say so! Two more of his family gone.^” 

Saul patiently hesitated to reply, until the first 
degree of excitement died down. He then mildly 
told them it was Maria and Aunt Delilah. 

“Maria and Aunt Delilah! Can it possibly be. ^ 
I never would have thought it!” 

“ Nor I!” responded Sophia. “That is not as 
we were calculating things, is it, mother.^” 

“No, no! far from it. We can’t see ahead of us, 
that is certain.” 

“Indeed not one day ahead,” said Sophia. “I do 
wish we could have had given us something besides 
faith with which to look into the future.” 

“Yes, but then we’ve got to be satisfied and take 
things as they are,” said Aunt Sabrina, as she was 
about to turn to her domestic duties which were 


13 


194 


The Starless Crown. 


pressing at that time, it being near the dinner hour. 

Saul by this time felt quite well satisfied with the 
sensation he had produced, and continued his report 
by revealing the truth, that they were not dead, 
simply lost out of the family. 

Maria,” said he, “is now Mrs. Mortimore, and 
Aunt Delilah is- Mrs. L. H. Benjamin.” 

Whether from madness, acerbity or surprise, we 
are not prepared to say, only for the first several 
minutes Aunt Sabrina stood as stationary as though 
she had turned to adamant, whilst Sophia reeled 
with convulsed emotion, then fell fainting to the 
floor. 

Saul’s effort to raise Sophia and place her upon a 
couch relaxed Aunt Sabrina’s tension, and she com- 
menced in an excited way to express her belief as to 
the propriet}^ of such matches. 

‘‘I do want to know,” said she, “ if Maria has got 
that Mr. Mortimore that Aunt Trichie used to talk 
about as bein’ next to the kingdom of heaven. I 
thought he was calculatin’ to go off among the 
heathen.” 

‘‘The very one. Aunt Sabrina. He is a very 
worthy gentleman, one of high order. He told me 
this morning that he and Maria had for over five 
years been looking forward to the day when they 
should be made co-partners for life, each to share 
the other’s joy and sorrow in a home beyond the 
sea.” 

“I wonder if that is what Maria is goin’ to be, a 
missionary! I never would have believed it. She 
has kept her expectations very close, ’pears to me. 
I had never heard a word about it.” 

“Love and religion,” muttered Sophia. 


Surprising News. 


195 


“That’s so,” said Aunt Sabrina. “You see her 
knowin’ about it all this long time, ’counts for her 
bein’ so strainish like. When any body is that way, 
there’s purty ginerally somethin’ at the bottom.” 

“Judge not that ye be not judged,” fell with 
.emphasis from the lips of Saul. “Maria is a wise 
lady, too wise to expose her best interests to the 
world’s frown. There were those, however, who 
knew of her plans.” 

“When are they going,” asked Sophia. 

“They expect to leave our shores early in August.” 

“Then we sha ’nt have them long, but I ’d like to 
know how L. H. Benjamin came to marry Aunt 
Delilah.” 

“He doubtless considered her his compeer. So 
far as a suitable match is concerned, a better one 
could not have made, according to my judgment. 
’Tis true he is well advanced in years, but then there 
is no impropriety in his having a wife to be company 
for him, especially as he has plenty of this world’s 
goods to supply their wants. His family all appeared 
very much pleased. There was no mirth or gayety. 
Every thing moved on with great solemnity. I never 
attended a more solemn wedding.” 

The influence on Sophia’s mind on becoming bet- 
ter acquainted with what had happened seemed to 
restore her to her original strength. She strove to 
restrain her feelings, and kept quiet until after Saul 
had left, which was immediately after partaking of 
a dry lunch, when to her satisfaction she relieved her 
mind in a liberal way. She expressed her thousand 
doubts in regard to Mr. and Mrs. Mortimore’s useful- 
ness and future happiness; but, there was comfort 
on her part, they were not going to be near enough 


196 


The Starless Crown. 


to be an affliction, and it was her sincere wish, when 
they had sailed away, that they might never be per- 
mitted to return. As for L. H. Benjamin, she had 
many suspicions as to what would become of him. 
^‘But as it is,” she said, “I do not care, one thing 
is sure, I am two-edged over it. I hope any thing 
but good will happen him. To wish him evil is 
harmless, he stands so mightily.” 

‘‘ With this turbulent spirit all the unkind opin- 
ions that could be brought to mind, and rehearsed 
between mother and daughter during the remainder 
of the day, were expressed. At which time, also. 
Aunt Sabrina tried to stimulate Sophia to feel she 
was not alone, or without friends. That she had no 
reason to think herself beyond hope and happiness, 
and that disappointments were the most common 
occurrences of the day. ‘‘There will come another 
springtime, mind you that,” said she, “besides, 
I always think the sun shines brightest after a 
shower. There are plenty enough things in this 
world that’s comfortin’, if we can only see them. I 
think I know jist where you made your mistake; 
could you only have loved Tom you would have 
had a stand-by friend.” 

“I see where I made my mistake, fast enough,” 
said Sophia. 

When the evening hour had passed and she had 
retired to her room, she began again to reconsider 
her unhappy lot, and think over those bright antici- 
pations that once filled her heart with warm enthu- 
siasm. “How can it be?” she sighed; “even those 
written pages that were worth a world to me, and 
filled my sky with gems of bright material, all 
have faded and died away like a midnight dream. 


A Dark Outlook. 


197 


It is not justice to me. I havx not earned for my> 
self so much of sadness. Why fate should mark 
my brow with sorrow I cannot tell. Why my life 
should become embittered I do not know.” 

With her head and heart full of unhappy reflec- 
tions she sunk sobbing upon her pillow. She found 
no rest in sleep. She could not look forward to the 
coming of the morrow with the hope of happy 
returns. She knew she had kind, sympathizing par- 
ents, yet her heart was sad, lonely and comfortless. 
It was indeed pitiable, this deep disturbance of her 
mind. With a melancholy stress of voice she would 
be heard to say “There is no creature that loves 
me, and if I die no soul will pity me.” For days 
she continued in this unhappy state of mind, until a 
sort of lethargy stole over her. She became dispir- 
ited; a pale, wan look settled upon her face; her 
countenance changed, her strength left her, and she 
lay prostrate upon a couch. 

Said Saul, “The only available remedy, in my 
opinion, is, if possible, to get possession of her 
mind, in order to overcome this burden of sorrow 
with which she is weighed down. Her sorrow of 
mind is her disease, which will without doubt ulti- 
mately prove fatal, unless means are used to pre- 
vent it.” 

The conversation between Saul and the grief- 
stricken parents was of considerable length. The 
idea was suggested that a change of place, new 
scenery and new acquaintances might operate large- 
ly in her behalf. 

“I have gone to my daily labor thinkin’ it was 
hard many times,” said Mr. Brown, “but there was 
never anything half so hard to me as this is. Try, 


198 


The Starless Crown. 


Saul, and see.” His feelings at this point overcame 
him and he was unable to speak. 

“I understand you,” said Saul, “I will make an 
effort. There shall nothing be left undone that I 
can do,” and without further consideration he im- 
mediately walked to the door opening into her room, 
and after halting a moment upon the threshold he 
advanced towards her with a stately tread, repeating 
as he neared her, in a jovial way, the following 
rhyme : 

“Art thou sick, sad, suffering? 

I cannot ease a single pain. 

But I ’ll go ask thy heavenly Father, 

He will make thee well again.” 


Sophia turned her head upon her pillow, and with 
her eyes fixed upon him, smilingly said, as he neared 
her, ‘‘Saul I am glad to see you. How does it hap- 
pen that I do 

“That you do! Am I not around daily said 
Saul, “who is more conspicuous than I am.^” 

Throwing a napkin over her face she wept very 
bitterly. 

A little later Saul said, “I was never that I recol- 
lect, at a greater loss for language to express my 
ideas.” 

However, after carefully considering for a moment, 
he asked, “Why do you feel so bad? I understood 
you to say you were glad to see me.” 

“But, Saul, this world is dark to me ; I wish 1 was 
dead and out of it.” 

“Why do you make such a wish?” 

“If there is nothing for me in this world, but to 
drink bitterness from the cup of woe, if all I love 


Saul as Comforter. 19^ 

and hold dear must die away, I want to die with 
them.” 

Saul placed his hand upon her forehead, where it 
rested for some minutes, during which time the 
tears started in his eyes. 

“For what are those tears, Saul.^’’ 

“For you.” 

“ How is that.^” 

“I have too much regard for you, to hear you say, 
you wish you were dead. To be willing to appear 
in the presence of God is well, where there is saving 
faith and a regenerated heart, but for a person to 
wish one ’s self dead simply because one does not 
succeed in things pertaining to this life is wrong. 
I want you to get well and be cheered up. As soon 
as you are able I will take you out riding.” 

“No, you wouldn’t, there would be something to 
upset it. I have never yet attempted anything that 
was not overturned. I am doomed to sorrow and 
disappointment.” 

“I think, Sophia, I could bring it to your under- 
standing that it is undisputably your own fault that 
has brought you where you now are. You were 
not providentially doomed to an imbittered life, but 
such has come upon you from your own unsteady, 
inconstant credulty of mind, and you have no one 
but yourself to blame. Perhaps I should say, no 
one but yourself and mother. Could Aunt Sabrina 
have had wisdom to foresee that which was obvious 
to any ordinary person, and discharged her duty in 
your behalf, she may possibly have benefited you. 
As for myself, to look on sorrowingly was all that I 
could do. My words had no effect. I could only 
let you alone to be a blind leader of the blind, and 


200 


The Starless Crown. 


we are told, ‘if the blind guide the blind, both shall 
fall into a pit.’ I will now leave you, and when you 
shall have sufficiently recovered, if you wish, we 
will thoroughly discuss these troublesome matters. 
I am of the opinion that they can all be overcome.” 

“Don’t go, Saul, let’s talk it now.” 

“Had you not better rest.^ Wait until 3’ou have 
gotten more strength.” 

“No. I’m better now, I can hear to-day as well 
as to-morrow.” 

“Then you think you can stand Saul’s talk, do 
you } ’ ’ 

“Yes, for what part of it I don’t like I’ll throw 
away.” 

“I guess you are on the rise.” 

“I have felt that wa}^ ever since 3^ou first come, 
if I did cry mightil3\” 

“The first thing of importance then is, do you 
not recollect some weeks ago our conversation in 
my office.^ Did I not at that time try to awaken 
your mind in regard to true and false love.^ And 
did I not speak of ^^our being misrepresented as 
a literary character.^ That very thing has been one 
of the strongest, most bitter roots in the history of 
your downfall. In the first place it elevated you 
above your compeers, it established an egotistical 
tendency, which, if properly entitled, could be termed 
infatuation. Of such were the fibers that composed 
your hammock, and through it you have fallen. In 
my mind, and I have all necessary" proof to believe, 
it was for no other reason than financial gain that 
Dr. Green made pretensions to love. If you were 
truly that which you were represented to be, it was 
an object to him. Those noted for their genius have 


A Serious Talk. 


201 


cash values. They possess a worth such as is not 
common to ordinary people. But that is no indica- 
tion of purity and perfection. Whilst they may be 
able by their genius to attract the public mind, they 
have no better hearts, many of them, than those 
the}^ interest. Had they, much greater good could 
be accomplished by them. It was the genius upon 
which Dr. Green set his eye. Had your work not 
proved a total failure, he possibly might not have left 
you; at all events not until he should have secured 
his mite. As it was, he had no more desire to stay 
in Copperville than a wild duck would have that 
swims on the river. Not only so but it is hardly 
possible to suppose he could have staid so long as 
he did, had it not been that here he was made to 
feel free and at home. 

“Sophia, I am telling you the truth, and for your 
good, as it has been given me. He has not paid one 
dime for either board or room rent since he came to 
Copperville, and for the last two weeks had no board 
elsewhere than here, so far as is known. He talked 
to you about his patients. He did not have them. 
It was a base hoax. There is still more I can tell 
you. A gentleman walked in his office the day he 
wrote his credentials and saw what he was doing 
plainly enough to understand it. By the father’s 
flogging the lad for leaving his work, it became 
known that Dr. Green had hired him to deliver a 
note to Miss Sophia Brown, after which he did not 
pay him the dime he agreed to for doing the errand. 
Knowing this, and much more, do you not think I 
had grounds for suspicion, far back to the very out- 
set of his introduction and understood definitely what 
was being conducted and was confident the end would 


202 


The Starless Crown. 


be just as and no better than it is.^ I had no con- 
fidence in him from the beginning. His face denoted 
villainy. If he truly has a profession, which he 
probably has, it is as I have told you, there are 
scores of them who do not amount to a feather’s 
weight, but are well calculated to deceive and mis- 
lead, and according to my mind, such is his highest 
ambition.” 

“I don’t care. Doctor is handsome, there is that 
much of him.” 

“That is as you see him, and so far you were not 
alone. He was looked upon by many as a handsome 
man, but it was short-sightedness. I am myself a 
lover of beauty, every one is more or less ; but regard 
it not a pearl of price, it is fleeting as the bow in 
the clouds. There is however a beauty to be admired 
of lasting value — that of mind spiritually developed. 
Such beauty can be referred to as a ‘charmer charm- 
ing’ wisely. Whilst there are many other things 
of which we might speak, would it not be well to 
say, let those things which have passed, lie in the past, 
I recommend that you never give Dr. Green, that 
patch of aristocracy, another thought. He is not 
worth one. Do not think me harsh when I say he 
is a mere bubble. We can but hope the future may 
bring to you better success.” 

“ Saul, there is one thing if you know, I wish you 
would truthfully tell me. Does Tom love Lize.” 

“Yes, very aff ectionatel}^ ; they are happily united. 
One thing I have in mind to suggest is, after you 
recover, perhaps you would enjoy going on a trip 
with me to visit some of our far-a-way relatives, 
who would, I am quite sure, be pleased to see a 
specimen or two of their Copperville friends.” 


The Proposed Visit. 


203 


‘‘Glory! Are you in real earnest, Saul? Where 
would we go, up to Kingumton?” 

“Yes, for one place. In Kingumton I think you 
would enjoy a few weeks’ stay. There are several 
cousins in and near Kingumton very nearly your age. 
Rather distant, ’tis true, some of them are, but I can 
prove our relationship satisfactorily should there be 
any doubt on their part as to the certainty. We 
could not go, however, until after Mr. and Mrs. 
Mortimore have embarked for India. I have a desire 
to see them on board the ship, and shall, with quite 
a number of their friends, accompany them to the 
harbor. After which it will afford me pleasure to 
go with you as I have already said. I now want 
you to lay aside this trouble of mind, and bear with 
composure the present condition of things. Experi- 
ence is the chief of school masters. He sits as 
monarch over belief and opinion, and such is what 
I trust your experience will prove to be. That 
which was of yesterday be your instructor for to- 
morrow. It has been suggested that I, from a sense 
of duty to you, should examine those written pages. 
I have glanced over them, and at this time, perhaps, 
can as well say, any publishing compan}^ to have 
issued a work of the kind would have laid itself 
liable to prosecution. Your title is very good, if 
properly used, and had you the talent for writing, had 
you an active brain, that would generate thought, 
and you could look round about, upon persons and 
things, both natural and artificial, and could conceive 
ideas and impressions from them, you would have as 
free and independent right to them as the humming 
bird has to the honeysuckle. But what youijhave 
done is an altogether different thing. You have 


204 


The Starless Crown. 


noted circumstances which have come under your 
observation. Town gossip, your opinion of indi- 
viduals which is not perfect, and to be short and 
truthful there is nothing creditable about the work. 
And I fully endorse Mr. Hacker’s recommendation.” 
Saul then arose, and with heartfelt sincerity assured 
her that she would be remembered, and ‘^May I 
not expect,” he asked, ‘To find you sitting up on my 
return in the morning.^” 

“Perhaps,” said Sophia, “if I do not again get 
too much under a cloud.” 

“But there you must not get. Do you not 
know there is sunshine all over the world and that 
its light is shed for the benefit of every unblinded 
eye.^” 

“What do you call night .^” 

“Night is that part of day when the sun is beneath 
the horizon, we have the moon and stars at night.” 

“They arn’t sunshine.^” 

“Certainly not, we do not need sunshine by which 
to sleep.” 

“Well,” said Sophia, with a grim smile, “if the 
sun shines all over the world, it does in Kingumton, 
and when I get there I suppose it will shine on me.” 

“If you are so fortunate as to get there it will 
without doubt shine on 3’ou.” 

Saul could not hide his feelings. He was strongly 
disposed to laugh, and carried with him the same 
expression as he went to the tea table. 

“I see no signs of dissolution,” said Saul, “I am 
of the opinion that she will recover; I have spoken 
to her of a trip to Kingumton. After having spent 
a few weeks there she will without doubt be back 
in her ordinary frame of mind.” 


A Trip to Kingumton. 


205 


Said Aunt Sabrina, About what time do you 
think you will go?” 

‘‘I will take her as soon as possible after my return 
from Boston.” 

This idea was very pleasing to the parents, and 
immediately after tea Aunt Sabrina went with her 
prepared toast and jelly to Sophia, and at once began 
to discuss the matter and so thoroughly there was 
nothing left unsaid. They were sure Saul would 
not deviate in his calculations, but go to Boston with 
whoever else would go, just for the sake of seeing 
Mr. and Mrs. Mortimore on shipboard, because they 
wanted to look big and go off to heathendom. 

‘‘So you see,” said Sophia, “I must be put off, 
must lie back and wait. It is always the way, I 
never yet had any thing go so smooth that it had 
not in it a ruffle, an unavoidable something to dump 
me in troubled waters.” 

“But after a while you may sail on a good deal 
smoother sea. Things don’t stand one way always,” 
said Aunt Sabrina. “I am most dreadful glad for 
one thing and that is that Saul is willin’ to take you 
to Kingumton, but like yourself I wish he could have 
gone sooner. I don’t feel so well satisfied to have 
it put off sich a long while. I think it likely you 
could have gone by next week. You look better 
this afternoon. You are goin’ to come up all right, 
Saul thinks.” And then they began all the more 
earnestly to make their calculations, when to their 
surprise they were unexpectedly disturbed by the 
tolling of the church bell. A few minutes later the 
report came in that L. H. Benjamin was no more. 

“It was but yesterday morning,” said Saul, “that 
I saw him in good health and spirits. He and Mrs. 


2o6 


The Starless Crown. 


Benjamin rode over to be with Maria, as he said, 
^all I shall ever see her in this world will be what I 
can during her short stay this side of the water. 
She may live to return, but it will not be until I 
shall have passed away.’ This is an unlooked for 
event. Notwithstanding his age, his health had 
continued firm, his faculties good and his spirit 
buoyant for one of his years. We shall greatly 
miss him. He and Mrs. Benjamin were to be two 
of the number who were expecting to accompany 
Mr. and Mrs. Mortimore to the ship.” 


A Pp:acefui. Death. 


207 


CHAPTER XXIV. 


‘‘Help, Lord, for the godly man ceaseth, for the 
faithful fail from among the children of men.” How 
often times in the history of human affairs do we 
find ourselves ready to adopt the language of the 
psalmist, and say, “help. Lord.” It is an expression 
not only said, but very materially felt and emphati- 
cally used. In the case of which we now speak, it 
was forcibly felt and used as Father Benjamin was 
one “known and read of all men,” a herald of the 
cross, a strong man armed. Whilst it was fully 
understood that he could not continue long after 
having passed his three-score and ten years, yet so 
powerful was his influence as an evangelical pro- 
moter, that faith, hope and love, prime meteors of 
to-day, were strongly combined to make tardy his 
upward flight, and still herald him forward upon the 
battle field of life. 

But, “He giveth His beloved sleep, yea, saith the 
Spirit, that they may rest from their labor for their 
works follow with them.” In the golden days of 
mid-summer, at the time of harvest gathering when 
the reapers were casting in the sickle. Father Benja- 
min was gathered by the great reaper and carried 
home by angel hands, bearing his sheaves with him. 

Among the many vicissitudes connected with the 
life of so venerable a gentleman there are many which 
we must leave unnumbered and untold that might 
add largely to the interest of the reading public, but 


2o8 


The Starless Crown. 


like his fathers he fell asleep, as it is written, “Man 
goeth to his long home, and the mourners go about 
the street.” The great principle that marked the 
character of Father Benjamin’s life, was carried down 
to that period of time “ When the earth should have 
become a forgotten substance,” and the balance of 
his worldly possessions would be unlocked for distri- 
bution. There to find an unlooked for legacy, of 
untold value, which he had thoughtfully selected and 
copied with his 6wn hand from the passage left by 
Patrick Henry in his will, was tenderly touching. 
It disclosed to human mind his depth of love in 
behalf of his family. The passage left by Patrick 
Henry in his will, though familiar to many, cannot 
be too frequently copied. It reads: “I have now 
disposed of all my property to my family. There 
is one thing more I wish I could give them, and that 
is the Christian religion. If they had that and I 
had not given them one shilling, they would be 
rich, and if they have not that, and I had given them 
all the world, they would be poor.” 

It was enough. The wall of separation was laid, 
that ever after distinguished them from the world, 
and enabled them to follow a beloved father’s foot- 
prints to the throne. 

It was at once remarked by Mrs. Mortimore, after 
hearing of the death of Father Benjamin, that Aunt 
Delilah should return to her former home to be com- 
pany for her own mother after their departure. 
That she should feel far happier to think of her there, 
than with her newly made relatives at Castle Hill. 
And, as it was left for Aunt Delilah to choose for 
herself, she accepted the solicitation to return. 

“There will be two less,” said Maria, “to accom- 


Off to Foreign Shores. 


209 


pany us to the ship, but we hav^e parted here,” and 
whilst tears thickly gathered in her full eyes, she 
sweetly sung: 

“ Here we are but straying pilgrims.” 

The Hand that had severed wrought for them a 
shadow that made the daily revolutions of life turn 
like an overladen wheel. Still the days went fleeting 
past with their preparations and farewell tokens^ 
until for the last time, perhaps forever, had the sun 
set and risen upon them in their native home. With 
those who remained who were to accompany them 
to the ship, a vast multitude assembled at the depots 
amid sighs, tears and heart aches, such as neither 
tongue can tell nor pen describe. And after a short 
farewell address by Rev. Mortimore, whose calm,, 
serene deportment and eloquence of speech, mellowed 
with the sweet spirit of grace, which fastened upou 
the hearing ear never to be forgotten, the swiftly 
departing train bore them away. 

“Glory! glory!” shouted Sophia, at the sound of 
the car whistle and the rapidly rolling wheels, “a 
calm is now what we may hope to have, there has 
been nothing but excitement for weeks ; I thought 
they made display enough to have buried a queen 
when Aunt Trichie died, but heaven bless me, what 
was that to compare with L. H. Benjamin’s funerah 
They made a great swell, they had a showy time^ 
but there is this comfort in it, it is that which will not 
have to be done over again. And now since we have 
got rid of Maria we may expect pleasant times to 
what we have had, as we shall have less opposing 
force against us.” 

“Yes, it is a great relief,” said Aunt Sabrina, 
14 


210 


The Starless Crown. 


“now, we’ve got nothin’ to do, but to go straight 
.ahead. I do hope your goin’ to Kingumton will be 
to you a greater' blessin’ than could have come to 
you in any other way. But then we’re poor blind 
creatures, we can’t tell how things is goin’ to turn 
with us or which way will be the best. 

“I can’t help thinkin’ about Aunt Delilah, I expect 
she made great calculations to live high and keep 
L. H. yet a good long while, but he’s gone and left 
her. I should like to know most dreadful well how 
that will reads. I am thinkin’ Delilah has been cut 
off, mebbe, by her cornin’ back to Starky’s. It looks 
that wav. If she has been there is another dis- 
ap*pointment. But then it’s a good deal to be called 
Mrs. Benjamin, besides it may make her feel better 
to think she will be more than likely buried by the 
side of him.” 

“But there is more than that in my head,” said 
Sophia. “So long as I am feeling better, I tell you 
now is the time whilst Saul is away to make an extra 
effort to see if Doctor’s whereabouts can’t be found. 
Who knows but something serious ma}^ have hap- 
pened him. He may be dangerously ill, and greatly 
need a friend to stand by him. I think if father will 
help me to the money, I will go to Dunberry this 
afternoon. There is where he used to spend much 
time after he located here. He told me it was a 
pleasant resort, and he could as well enjoy recreation, 
as to be bound inside the dingy walls of his office 
room.” 

Aunt Sabrina put on her stud}- ing cap, as she com- 
monly said, for a few minutes. Then she slipped out 
through the side door, unknown to Sophia, and found 
her way to the workshop, where she whispered with 


Dk. Green’s Pp:rfidy. 


3 I I 

great care the secret of Sophia’s ambition to hnd 
out Dr. Green’s whereabouts to Mr. Brown. 

Said the latter, “ I’m most dreadful sorry she is so 
unwillin’ to give up that fellow. Here wife, take 
this paper to her. I saw the notice yesterday, but 
thought I ’d better keep it to myself, but if she is 
bound to investigate, jist let her read that first,” 
pointing to the column. 

Aunt Sabrina walked leisure!}’ back to the house, 
where she carefully read it before allowing Sophia 
the privilege of knowing. After which she said, 
‘‘Here’s an awful thing, Sophia; when you shall have 
read this, you .will not want to go to Dunberry.” 

“Let’s hear it,” said Sophia. 

Suicidp: — On Sabbath last, at Dunberry, Annie, only 

daughter of C. E. and A. R. M , was found in a dying 

condition from the effects of morphine administered by her own 
hand, soon after which death ensued. A note was found 
on the table which read as follows: 

“I see no bliss in life; I have no desire to stay. I prefer death and the 
grave, to the sight-seeing beauties of earth, and our once happy home. 
Forgive in me the act and let me go. Adieu, 

“ Your loving daughter, 

“ Annip:.” 

For some days previous to Miss i\nnie’s death she appeared 
to have sunken into a sort of lethargy which greatly disturbed 
the minds of her parents. They knew of her engagement 
with Dr. Green to whom she had been introduced early in 
December the previous year, and whose interest in her behalf 
had been strongly exhibited from time to time with an 
almost unnatural constancy. The early part of April was 
the time appointed for their marriage, but it was deferred until 
the early part of June, as the Doctor remarked, Is a 

favorite month with me, I think it far more lovely than either of 
the other months, and, Annie, it may lend superior enchant- 
ments to our honeymoon.” So far as could be observed Dr. 
Green was a royal, kind, noble-hearted friend, one who had 
been faithful to his trust so far as their knowledge extended. 


212 


The Starless Crown. 


They saw no reason to censure his fidelity. They suspected 
no cause for which their engagement should be annulled^ 
until it became rumored that his room in Copperville was 
vacated, and its occupant had skipped to unknown parts. 

When the report became verified, Annie appeared dismayed,, 
and taking her already prepared bridal costume and after 
giving it a general looking over said, “We will lay it away^ 
I shall never wear it.” The probability was, she should never 
see her betrothed. She realized it with sorrow, and as the 
light of her young life became obliterated, she preferred 
death to life. 

“ Alas for love, if this be all, 

And nought beyond, Oh, earth.” 

‘‘I can’t believe it,” said Sophia in an excited 
tone. ‘‘I do not believe that Dr. Green had a more 
special friend than myself. According to that state- 
ment he, too, has had more than one string to his 
bow. And for what would that be.^ I never heard 
him speak of Annie, I doubt his ever having made 
her acquaintance. But I will, I am bound to know. 
I will go there; that I will. There is a wrong in it 
and I do know it.” 

With this height of excited ambition it was 
thought best to have Sophia go for self-satisfaction, 
which she did. She found the home of the orrieT 
stricken parents, who kindly received her. She 
also found in their possession a photograph of the 
identical Dr. Green, her own most dearly cherished 
friend. She was assured that he had been a con- 
stant visitor at their home for over ’four months. 
And to their darling Annie he had vowed faithful- 
ness. That of his attention to any other person 
they had no knowledge until after Annie’s death. 

‘‘And,” said Mrs. M , “if you were betrothed 

to Dr. Green, you are the fifth found to be ‘under 
my special guardianship,’ as he used to say to Annie.” 


What Sophia Heard. 


213 


“Must I believe,” said Sophia, “that Dr. Green 
has been paying strict attention to five different 
ladies, of whom I am one, all in the circumference 
of a few miles 

“I am sorry that such should be acknowledged,” 

said Mrs. M with anguish of heart. “It was 

verily true to appearance that Dr. Green was devo- 
tedly attached to Daughter Annie. To our certain 
knowledge they were positively engaged to be mar- 
ried. We looked upon him as a gentleman of value. 
We highly prized him. We could not have believed 
that which now is could ever be. The other ladies 
of whom I speak as having a claim to him can 
answer for themselves.” 

“It is enough,” said Sophia, and left to take the 
first train for home. 

As Sophia entered the room. Aunt Sabrina said, 
“Then you’re back, are you.^ Did you get the 
right information.^” 

“I have gotten all the information I need, whether 
it is right or wrong. Anyway I shall set my stake 
in Kingumton. I think of what Saul will say when 
he hears the news. The first words spoken will be, 
‘With what measure ye mete, it shall be measured 
to you again.’ I have heard him repeat it so many 
times, that it revolves in my mind like a buzz saw. 
Let it be as it may, there is a puzzle in it. For a 
lady to have more than one string to her bow is wis- 
dom; for a gentleman wickedness. One thing is 
sure, I shall cherish the belief that I stood first with 
the Doctor.” 

“But we’ll jist let him go,” said Aunt Sabrina. 
“I feel a good deal encouraged, I tell you, Sophia; 
since Saul first told me about takin’ you to King* 


214 


The Starless Crown. 


umton, I’ve been havin’ most dreadful good dreams. 
You know what I ’ve always been tellin’ you, if you 
dream of light or brightness it betokens good luck 
and happiness, and the other night I dreamed of 
seein’ you with a lighted candle in you hand, so I 
am feeling purty sure the right step is about to be 
taken. By the time Saul gets round, we ’ll have 
things in order. He won’t be gone any great while. 
They ’ll only stay to see the ship move off on the 
water, may be till it is out of sight, but that won’t 
be long, then back he’ll be cornin’.” 

By the time Saul arrived he found the two very 
impatiently awaiting his return. He had spent more 
time viewing the coast, and visiting places of inter- 
est inside the city limits, than they had supposed he 
would, and they expressed their disappointment at 
not seeing him sooner. 

“If I have caused unpleasantness on your part, I 
am very sorry for it,” said Saul. “I will make no 
further delay, but get you immediatel}^ into King- 
umton. In order to get through without too much 
waiting in consequence of the changes to be made, 
we can if you wish, leave here to-night on the 1 2 130 
train.” 

“All right,” said Sophia, “I don’t want to wait 
till frost comes.” 

“To start when the sign is right is best, I always 
think,” said Aunt Sabrina. 

Whilst it was absolutely necessary that Saul should 
indulge in a few days’ rest, in order to be better pre- 
pared for a second journey, he was obliged to sacri- 
fice his own feeling to gratify Sophia’s wild ambition. 
Much to Sophia’s delight it was soon decided that 
they should take the night train, which they did. 


Going to Kingumton. 


215 


with Aunt Sabrina to accompany them to the depot, 
to see that they got off all right, as she said, with 
her face as bright as a sunflower. She had a mul- 
titude of messages to be carried on tongue’s endy 
and delivered by word of mouth to Uncle Sammy 
Smith, and a vast number of other relatives very 
dear to her, most of whom she had not seen for thirty 
years. As the train neared the depot, a copious flood 
of tears gushed from her eyes, and with half choked 
utterance she tried to say: ‘‘I hope to hear good 
news and happiness, fare you well,” as nearly as 
could be understood. 

^‘Saul, why have you so dull and stupefled an 
appearance.^” asked Sophia, as the train was speed- 
ing along. 

“I am exceedingly tired, not having had rest 
enough to refresh me for the past two weeks,” he 
replied. 

“I am awful sorry for you, but then I expect they 
have good beds in Kingumton.” 

Saul’s sleepy mood discomfited Sophia. She was 
afraid he was not going to do justice to himself b}^ 
putting on so drowsy a look. 

“To have done justice to myself,” responded Saul, 
‘T should not have been on this train; I suffer this 
unpleasantness to please you.” 

“For one to suffer for the well-being of a friend 
is renowned friendship,” said Sophia. 

“That is just such friendship as I have for you. 
Were it otherwise, I should not have taken you to 
Kingumton ; and my sincere wish is that your going 
may benefit you.” 

“It will, Saul, I feel it in my bones, mother does 
too.” 


3i6 


The Starless Crown. 


‘‘Did she dream it.^” asked Saul. 

“It was that or an indication.” 

“Fortunate for you, perhaps, that you have a 
mother who well knows how to dream and interpret.” 

When the space of time required to complete the 
journey had passed, they were safe in Kingumton. 
As there were several families in the place by the 
name of Smith, it was necessary they should have 
some way to distinguish them. Not having been 
familiar with either, they took the bend of their 
inclination, agreeable to the suggestions made prior 
to leaving home, and found Uncle Sammy’s first. 
There they were received with all the warmth and 
enthusiasm that hospitality could cover, until Sophia 
really felt she had arrived at that point where the 
gates of bliss were about to open to her. Uncle 
Samm}’ Smith was rather a jolly old joker. As 
soon as he could conveniently change his position, 
he squared himself around face foremost to Sophia, 
and said, “Well, Sophie, that is what they call you, 
I believe, does your father keep up pretty well now- 
a-days.^ I haven’t seen Jeremiah in a good many 
years.” 

“Yes, father is very well, indeed.” 

“I’m glad to hear it, I have had pretty good health 
generally speaking, but of late, I get somehow a good 
deal out of kilter. We are ever so glad to see you. 
You must stay awhile with us, to see how you like 
3^our relations up in this part of the country. We 
have of our own a house full of bo^'s and girls, and 
the}^ are noisy, enough sometimes. Besides we have 
any amount of them in the town. Some of them 
we are glad to have, and others we would not care 
if they fled to some unknown part. But we have 


Chat With Uncle Sammy. 


217 


one little chap here that’s about right, we all think ; 
and Sophie, you might set your cap for him. It 
might be you could catch him, if you could only 
hold onto him after getting hold. Sometimes these 
little fellows are as slippery as eels. With this one, 
I don’t know how it would be. He is about as large 
as a common sized lap-dog, but a good deal more 
entertaining. He was raised just a little way out of 
town, I’ve always knowed him, and I used to look 
upon him as a small sample, but I don’t know, he 
bids fair to make the tallest man among us.” 

“What is he.^ What does he do.^” asked Sophia. 

‘‘Why, he’s what they call a minister. He can 
interest a congregation and hold them untired listen- 
ers the longest of any mortal man I ever saw grace 
a pulpit. I have always believed in the doctrine of 
election, I set my stake to believe when I was quite 
a young boy, that, if God had loved me well enough 
to have made me one of His elect I would be saved, 
and if he hadn’t I wouldn’t. With this settled 
belief, I just fold up my arms and rest myself con- 
tentedly. It will all come out right in the end, there 
is no question about that. But this little. .Elder Syl- 
vester, as we all call him here at home, is a pretty 
sharp, witty fellow. And the other Sunday he came 
pretty near upsetting me. If my way of thinking is 
wrong, and that little fellow should set me right, it 
would be a blessed good thing for both of us. 

“But Sophia, I am in earnest; I’ll just speak to 
my boys, and have them bring the little chap around 
here. It is a lot better to have a small-sized man 
well compounded, than to have one of those heavy, 
broad-breasted fellows intellectually as flat as a 
cockle. We happened to have one such not long 


2i8 


The Starless Crowx. 


ago. His tirst appearance was well enough, but 
when you come to hear him tangle his nouns up with 
conjunctions and shovel them out with emphasis you 
would think to emphasize was the science and sub- 
stance of preaching. Anyway that was all I could 
see in it, and I watched as close as I could, but I 
couldn’t find the first item that looked to me like 
anything saturated with God’s ichor, and I don’t 
believe there was a drop in his whole sermon. But 
you put this little S3dvester on the stand, and you 
will find him brilliant, easy and persuasive ; he will 
fill 3"ou with theology the soundest of the sound. 
He will 

“ ' Prove his doctrine from Paul to Moses, 

Then down to Calvin ere his sermon closes.’ 

‘‘ Such differences are striking representations of 
the great truth, that it is not the bulk that consti- 
tutes the important part of man, but the genuineness 
of the spirit that dwells in man.” 

The last sentence had no sooner fallen from the 
lips of Uncle Samm}^ than Saul entered and told 
them he had received a telegram to return imme- 
diatel}^ and should be obliged to take the first train 
that night for home. With much sorrow and many 
regrets on the side of both Saul and Uncle Sammy, 
Aunt Tabbath}’ hurriedly made ready a good meal, 
which he heartily partook, to refresh himself for 
another night’s travel. 


The Kinkades. 


219 


CHAPTER XXV. 


Near Kingumton lived Uncle Joe an^ Aunt Susan 
Kinkade in a very neat, respectable^ old-fashioned 
one story and a half house, painted-red, \vide spread 
and roomy on the first floor, with a veranda on two 
sides, with their heavy plank benches, here and there 
a wooden peg for halter straps, horse-shoes and cow- 
bells. At one corner in the rear was a large cobble- 
stone milk room with a covered projecting porch 
which connected it with the main building, and 
where was universally seen the old flat-wheeled dog- 
churn. Their motives were apparently so based 
upon accumulation, and so extensive were their 
efforts and success, that it was commonly remarked 
by the neighbors, ‘‘That there was but little Aunt 
Susan laid her hands on, that she could not call her 
own.” The great multiplication consisted not only 
in an immense farm stock of every grade and nature, 
but the household population increased to the num- 
ber of thirteen sons and daughters. 

“Not one too many,” said Uncle Joe, “I think, 
Susan, with prudent econom}^, if we keep our health 
to continue working on our old way, we can muster 
thirteen hundred acres clear from debt ’gin one year 
from next fall.” 

“Yes, I guess so too, I don’t want the children to 
get scattered away off around where a body can’t 
look after them. We want to keep them all close 
around home.” 


220 


The Starless Crown. 


It was therefore agreed to exercise all the wisdom 
possible in order to clear the last addition to the 
farm, that each one of the children might have their 
own especially allotted one hundred acres, and be, as 
Aunt Susan would say, “Where we can keep an 
eye to ’em.” 

Previous to the date of which we speak many 
were the individuals who cast a covetous glance over 
the broad acres, and to appease their selfishness would 
expose the sentiments of their minds by a slightly 
tinged slur, which was oftentimes repeated in refer- 
ence to Uncle Joe, 

“ That though he was aptly straightforward and fleet, 

The bulk of his bounty lay under his feet.” 

It was not particularly cared for, however, as Uncle 
Joe had a religious creed of his own, and a law by 
which he squared and leveled his plans of operation. 
Whatever the proposition might be, or new turn to 
be taken, if it only suited the mind of Aunt Susan, 
it was quite as satisfactory with Uncle Joe as though 
it had been the decision of a grand jury, and even 
more so, as there was complicated self-interest 
involved. 

The mind and opinion of the public was to them 
ever like a castle builded upon a mountain of quick- 
sand, and quite as unreliable. Their own law or 
method was exercised with freedom, so much so, 
that whoever remarked unwisely in reference to their 
prosperity, or mode of doing, the gifted and the 
popular, it made no difference, it was regarded with 
the same territorial limit as though it had issued 
from the lips of a shallow-headed demagogue. 

According to tradition, it must be expected that 
in a family of thirteen, sure there would be one either 


Sylvester’s Ambition. 


221 


a subject of dishonor, oddity or deformity, an unfor- 
tunate of some grade or nature. In the family of 
Mr. Kinkade, Sylvester was the so-considered unfor- 
tunate one, not having reached the measure of the 
stature of a man at the age of twenty. 

He was well formed, pretty faced, with wavy 
locks that bordered a beautiful brow, bright, ener- 
getic, but he was so tiny, it was not expected he 
could go from under the supervision of his parents, 
who ever nurtured him like a house-plant. 

Sylvester’s natural disposition was to acquire knowl- 
edge. He read every book upon which he could get 
his hand, and of what he read, he understood, and 
generally held a considerable portion on tongue’s end. 
He had great taste for mental philosophy and the- 
ology, which laid the foundation for faith in divine 
revelation, devotion and the fruits of piety. He being 
inferior in size, there was never anything heavy or 
laborious required of him. He usually performed 
such duties as poultry feeding, gathering in the eggs, 
giving due attention to the churn dogs, etc. During 
these hours in which he was not engaged in the lower# 
branches of business, called his waste hours, he ver}^ 
strictly attended to the cultivation of his mind. With 
this attention to study and assiduity of mind, so 
unremitting, his mental faculties increased with the 
spirit of grace growing in his young heart, until he 
felt called to preach the gospel. 

This introduced into the mind of his parents an 
altogether new theory. They had not thought it 
possible even for one moment that Sylvester could 
go from under the parental roof. For him to think 
of being a minister was as impossible to them as the 
thought of his fording the Atlantic. “It is nothing 


222 


The Starless Crown. 


but credulity,” said the parents, ‘^he has read too 
much, and it has made him unluckily wise. He 
had better have been taught to ride the horses and 
guide them before the plow, than to have gotten 
his head full of things clear out of his reach. Not 
only so, but for him to attempt a thing of that kind 
would add largely to our annual expenses and 
would greatly interfere with the year’s payment on 
the last addition to the farm.” 

‘Ht will never do. We don’t want to be severe, 
but we must reason with him,” said Aunt Susan, 
‘‘ likely he can be bought. Best try first the easier 
way. We must an3^way somehow get his mind 
changed around right again. Ma3^be it can be 
shook off b3^ making light of his calling. I don’t 
suppose he has even thought how he would look to 
be a preacher. No, no! he don’t stop to think; and 
U law! if he should be a preacher he would be away 
off where a body couldn’t see him more than once 
in a whole long year.” 

“Yes, 3^es, that is so; it would be hard,” said 
.Uncle Joe. “Here is the homestead with one hun- 
dred acres clear from debt, where he can live well 
enough, and that is all he ever need try to do, if he 
can only be made to see things that wa3^” 

“Sylvester,” said Aunt Susan, as he came in 
sight, “did you ever stop to think how smart it 
would look for a little man like 3'Ou to walk up into 
a pulpit to preach.^ Law! the folks would all laugh 
at you. I want to know if you don’t think 3^ou 
would be scared almost to death 

“Certainly not, I am not man-fearing.” 

“Well, I think I should be an3^ way, for as Lucas 
says, you would look like a toad on a horse’s back.” 


The Parp:xts’ Opposition. 


223 


Little Frankie who had been an attentive listener, 
after heartily laughing, said, ‘'When Vestie wants 
to preach we will give him the cuckoo’s house.” 

“I guess, Sylvester, that would do,” said Aunt 
Susan; 

“Oh, mother, mother,” sighed Sylvester, “small 
birds are the sweeter singers, do you not know. 
While I am but a small pattern, God has favored 
me with a heart and a mind. A work has He given 
me to do. How shall it be accomplished, and where 
unto shall I be sent, are the dail}^ questions of my 
life.” 

This trouble of mind in regard to Sylvester was 
the greatest burden that had ever come upon Uncle 
Joe and Aunt Susan. It was to them actual suffer- 
ing. They knew not how to endure the first thought 
of having him go from home, away beyond the reach 
of their watchfulness and superintending care. It 
was a grief to them to cross his feelings and crush 
his sensitiv^e heart. From the Christian ministry it 
was found to be impossible to turn his ambition. He 
was unmov^able, utterly so. To use authority, and 
say you shall not, they could not, dared not do. To 
deal with him in a trifling way, speak lightly, taunt, 
deride him, he would droop like blighted foliage, 
and steal awa}- weeping, and be overheard to repeat 
from the depth of his heart, words found in Jeremiah 
13: 17, 21, “If ye will not hear it, my soul shall weep 
in secret places for your pride, and mine eye shall 
weep sore, and run down with tears, because the 
Lord’s flock is carried away captive.” “What wilt 
thou say when he shall punish thee 

It therefore occurred to the mind of his parents, 
that it would be a wise plan to have a delegation of 


224 


The Starless Crown. 


ministers assemble at their house for special discus- 
sion. It was their united opinion that he would be 
at once overcome; that the influence of those his 
senior, and so greatly his superior, would do more 
in a short time to change his mind from this freak of 
fanaticism, as they called it, to that more fit aptitude 
founded upon the surer basis of home life, than they 
could to reason with him an age. 

Much to their surprise, on notifying him of what 
they proposed doing, he jo3’fully clapped his hands 
saying: ‘‘Thank you. The Lord is able to open 
up the way, and he will, for he has said, ‘At an accept- 
able time I harkened unto thee, and in a day of sal- 
vation did I succor thee.’ ” 

At the language and appearance of Sylvester the 
parents bowed their heads and wept in silence. 
When a favorable opportunity presented itself Uncle 
Joe said, “ Susan, wife, I am discouraged; I believe 
we shall lose our boy.” 

“Yes, I just expect it will be that way, unless by 
bringing in some ministers that will come right 
straight out and tell him plainly that it will never 
do; that he cannot be a preacher; that they will not 
give him license — you know, Joe, to preach they 
must have license — and in that way hold him 
back.” 

“But it would be like holding him in with a gag 
rein,” said Uncle Joe. “If he’d only give up, and 
be willing to stay home along with the rest of us, 
we would just give him the whole of that forty-acre 
fallow field next below the orchard. He should 
have every sheaf of wheat that grew on it. And 
it would bring him a good comfortable sum of 
money.” 


Calling the Council. 


225 


guess so, too; but I don’t suppose it would do 
an atom of good to say one word about it. To 
have him made discouraged in some reasonable way 
that has got some more power in it, will be the 
most likely. And when you are over in town this 
evening-i^ law ! if I don’t think you had best have it 
understood.” 

"T think that way myself, Susan;” then, after 
squaring himself before the mirror, running his 
lingers through his silvered locks and smoothing 
them down, adjusting his collar and neckerchief 
and thoughtfully taking a general look at him- 
self for a few minutes, he ambitiously advanced to 
a rear apartment and called out, “Ed! saddle that 
ar’ horse and bring him up for me.” Then rapidly, 
as though from some sudden flash of surprise, he 
turned and said, “ Susan, wife, I ’m going now.” 

“I am glad of it,” said Aunt Susan, “I don’t 
know as it would be anything worth while to wait.” 

In the efforts attending the circumstantial affairs 
in human life how often does the operation of the 
Spirit’s influence hurry the individual hastily onward 
when, according to the ordinary turn of mind, he 
might quite as well move more leisurely with the 
belief that time will bring every purpose into action 
and in this way allow hope to anchor on the well 
being of to-morrow. When the truth often found 
is that the object in view calls for notice in the sun- 
light of an unquestionable to-day. In the case of 
which wef now speak Mr. Kinkade was suddenly 
and forcibly impressed to accept the time being, in 
which, agreeable to the expression in its old time 
way, “He hit the nail square on the head.” 

It so happened that several of the most eminent 


15 


226 


The Starless Crown. 


divines from different localities had met in Kingum- 
ton for a special religious purpose, and were more 
than glad to listen to Mr. Kinkade’s earnest entreaty 
in behalf of his son, that they might be the means of 
turning his half bewildered mind from this strange 
freak of fanaticism to a more reasonable acceptance 
of private life. It afforded Mr. Kinkade great satis- 
faction when he was assured that, though time with 
them was limited, they would be at his house to spend 
an hour at least that afternoon before train time. 
To accomplish this the reverend gentlemen were 
obliged to exercise skill in order to fulfill the requii'e- 
ment. They therefore, made every effort in their 
power, and at the hour specified they were at Mr. 
Kinkade’s, comfortably seated in a neat, but plain, 
old-fashioned parlor. 

Uncle Joe and Aunt Susan were the first to inter- 
est the guests, by pouring into their ears their own 
fears and apprehensions in regard to Sylvester’s con- 
dition of mind, and in tones so trul}^ affecting, 
that if possible, would have turned noonday into 
midnight. As soon as they had made an end of 
freely speaking their mind, which was calculated to 
be the preface to the investigation, the children 
were all brought in and separately introduced. 

When the eye of the elders rested upon Sylvester 
they were surprised beyond measure. Their opinion 
at first sight of him varied widely from that which 
the}^ had formed from listening to the preceding 
illustration given them in reference to him. At a 
suitable moment Sylvester took his stand before them 
like one endowed with wisdom and power from on 
high, and in language eloquentl}^ beautiful he related 
to them his Christian experience, his ardent desire. 


At a suitable moment Sylvester took his stand before them, 














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A Faa okable Decision. 


229 

and explained to them his reason. It did not require 
any particular length of time for those gifted men 
to consider the matter, and decide definitely in his 
behalf. They were at once satisfied that he possessed 
the rudiments of Christian faith, and it was their can- 
did belief that he was one chosen of God, elect and 
precious. That to intrude upon his God*given right, 
to make tardy his progress, to burden his soul with 
any misgiving, or in any way lay a hindrance in the 
path before him, would be a sin. 

They kindly recommended Mr. and Mrs. Kinkade 
to prayerfully lean upon the strong arm of the Lord 
for their support, and cheerfully surrender up their 
son to Him who had called him to His service, and 
would kindly care for him. They assured them, 
that while he was dearly beloved b}' them, he was 
much more dearly beloved by his heavenly Master, 
whose claim had a far better title than their own. 
They gave special advice as to what course would 
be the more advantageous for his speedy advance- 
ment into the ministry, and spoke of a future when 
they might look upon that son, and feel that he was 
a much greater gift than to-day. Then turning to 
Sylvester, spoke of his high calling in Christ Jesus, 
and of his becoming a living epistle to scatter the 
incense of praise, and to be one known and read of 
all men. 

But, oh, how dreadful it seemed for Mr. and Mrs. 
Kinkade to hear that which was so unreconcilable 
to their own views. The advice given was exactl}' 
opposite to that which they had supposed it would be. 
As soon as possible after hearing them bid Sylvester 
God-speed and a general good-bye to each of them, 
their heavy, over-burdened hearts would not allow 


■230 


The Starless Crown. 


them to look after the sundry ever3’-day duties, but 
they stole away to a private room for consultation. 

said Aunt Susan; “we are a great deal 
worse off now than before.” 

“Yes, a hundred per cent,” said Uncle Joe. “I 
see no way but to let him go and be a man if he can 
be, so long as he has had help to think it all right 
he should.” 

“But, Joe, how is this all going to be brought 
around, do 3'ou suppose. There is no telling any 
thing about what it is all going to cost, I don’t know 
how a bod3' is ever going to see through it.” 

“ Wh3^, we shall have to count the cost for one 
year, and then calculate to meet the expense.” 

‘‘But we don’t want to lose an3^ part of the farm.” 

“No, no, we couldn’t afford that for he will be 
one of us just the same to want things. But if he 
must go to college, likel3^ we can take a little from 
here and there, of this and that, and in time raise 
the sum. It will, you see, onl3" be graduall3" re- 
quired. The poultr3' will amount to considerable 
this season, for I guess there are more turkeys, 
ducks and chickens over to the further barn than 
one man would want to count in a whole day. I 
don’t know bui we could spare that white-face cow 
this fall.” 

“I think you are right, Joe, and I don’t know as 
we would miss that old crooked horned brindle.” 

“Not xery much, I guess, Susan. When all 
things are once reckoned we’d find the means could 
be mustered together without disturbing us much. 
The worst part is to trust him off among strangers.” 

“Hadn’t we best call him in to hear what he will 
sa3'’, once more.^” 


Reluctant Acquiescence. 


231 


‘‘I think it would be well, Susan.” 

Sylvester was then summoned to appear before 
his sorrowing parents, who had wept until their 
eyes were swollen, and with hearts palpitating tried 
first in an affectionate manner to alienate his mind 
from the hard lot of parish pleasing to that of pleas- 
urable retirement. Failing in that the}^ turned to' 
find appalling influence, such as was calculated to 
pierce his heart and fill him with fear and over- 
whelming discouragements, but it was all in vain. He 
straightened himself before them with an air of 
dove-like meekness and rehearsed to them that 
portion of scripture which reads: “The Lord’s 
portion is his people; Jacob is the lot of his inherit- 
ance. He found him in a desert land and in the 
waste howling wilderness; he led him about, he 
instructed him, he kept him as the apple of his eye.” 
“As an eagle stirreth up her nest, fluttereth over 
her young, spreadeth abroad her wings, taketh 
them, beareth them on her wings: So the Lord 
alone did lead him, and there was no strange god 
with him.” 

“Susan, wife, our boy is too much for us. He 
plays with a high hand.” 

“I see, Joe, he don’t use any common weapon; 
jf la^, we’ll have to give him up.” 

“If you say so, we will then calculate that way,” 
and reaching forward Mr. Kinkade took his wife’s 
hand in his, saying, “ what is done must be unitedly 
done.” 

For a moment heart answered to heart, whilst 
Sylvester stood looking hopefully and prayerfully on. 
When the response was uttered, “He shall go,” 
Sylvester, as quick as thought, rushed forward, 


232 The Starless Crown. 

clasped the hands that were still joined, saying, ‘‘God 
bless you!” and lovingly kissed them. 

Then, as though in answer to Him who said, 
“Peace, be still,” they quieted down with a calm 
serenity, strange in its nature, but clear in its con- 
ception. The wheel had turned, the revolution was 
made. 

During those days of preparation in which he was 
being fitted for college life, and whilst their hearts 
were willing, still before them was the parting hour 
like a dread calamity. 

“Dear mother,” said Sylvester one day, as she 
was looking tearfully forward to the last farewell, 
“were we to know that at that time I was to be 
taken to eternity’s shore, you could the more reason- 
sbly dread, but as it is, we are only to be parted for 
a time, we hope to meet again. It can justly be 
compared to the laborer who goes forth in the morn- 
ing to his daily toil, to return in the evening, bring- 
ing with him his gotten gain. In like manner I 
expect to go, and return, bringing with me rich fruits 
wrought by labor, having my father and you to help 
me, subsequent!}^ to share with me in the joys of a 
toil-gathered harvest.” With his eyes still affection- 
ately raised to his mother, he reminded her of Him 
who after having been sought and found by His 
parents, in reply to them said, “Wist ye not that I 
must be in my Father’s house 

“Mother, my Master’s call must be obeyed, that 
I ma}' say with peace. He called me, and I followed 
on.” 

The days rapidly passed. The last thing to be 
done was finished. The large well-packed trunk 
was filled with every necessary article that could be 


Off for College. 


233 


thought of as being in any way useful to him, and 
he patiently awaited the last dawning for a season in 
his old familiar home. 

It came, and he was up among the first at the 
crowing of the cock, beautiful in appearance as the 
dew-laden lil}^ How differently he felt from others 
of the family as Aunt Susan said, “Instead of Syl- 
vester being down-hearted and doubting like, he is 
as full and as fresh as a morning glory.’’ That 
sweet glow upon his face continued with now and 
then a word suitably spoken to assure them of his 
fortitude and fervency, until the little square-box lum- 
ber wagon was drawn up before the door by two 
heavy horses. When the trunk had been thrown 
aboard and Sylvester had shaken hands and kissed each 
one good-b3^e, and after having taken his seat in the 
wagon he raised his hat and cheerfully said, ‘‘ Blessed 
is every one who feareth the Lord, who walketh in 
His way.” 

As the wheels turned and hurried him away. 
Aunt Susan and the girls stood watching with their 
aprons to their faces, wiping the fast falling tears, 
and the boys using their shirt sleeves, until he could 
no longer be seen in the distance. Through the 
special agency of Rev. E. Finley, S^dvester’s home 
during his college course had been previously 
secured, at no limited sum, in the family of one of 
the leading members of the facult}’. 


The Starless Crown. 


234 


CHAPTER XXVI. 


To follow Sylvester we iincl him in a state of 
tranquillit}^, hopefully awaiting the progress that 
was hastening him onward to his new home in a 
stranger’s house. 

The journey required no particular length of time 
to accomplish it, if exempt from mishaps and 
casualties, and as nothing of the kind occurred the 
train soon reached the depot, in sight of the college 
grounds and magnihcent buildings. 

Unknown to Sylvester the Rev. E. Finley had 
forwarded to the professor a photograph by which 
he would be recognized as soon as he appeared on 
the platform at the car door, and as the picture was 
an excellent resemblance, together with the written 
description, Sylvester was caught almost before he 
could alight from the train with such warmth and 
separable distinction that for a moment he felt 
seriously alarmed for his personal safety, thinking 
he had fallen into the hands of a kidnapper. 

“Ho, ho, gentleman, you are too fast,” cried Syl- 
vester in an excited tone, “do 3’ou think to blind me 
by your affection.^ I have my allotted destination 
assigned me, and beg you to release me,” meanwhile 
eagerly wrenching himself free from the grasp by 
which he was being held. 

“Pardon me,” said the kind-hearted professor. “ I 
have no impure motive, but must acknowledge I 
departed from the rules of decorum, not from the 
effect of failures in m}’ ordinary practice, or will- 


Sylvester’s Warm Reception. 235 

fully clone, but from an over-charged sensibility in 
reference to you particularly. I take you for Mr. 
Kinkacle of Kingumton,” meantime taking from the 
side pocket of his coat a photograph which he pre- 
sented him, with an air of dignity and politeness. 

Sylvester could scarcely believe his eyes when he 
beheld a photograph of himself. After looking at 
it for a moment, he raised his eyes inquiringly, and 
in an undertone asked, “Then are you Professor 
Gregnal, to whom I have been introduced by letter.^ 
And was this picture forwarded to you by Rev. 
Bro. Finley.^ I had no knowledge of his having 
any thing of the kind in his possession.” 

“I believe he was an active agent in having it placed 
in my hands, that I might not mistake you on your 
arrival. lam the Professor Gregnal whom you wish 
to find. And since receiving the photograph and 
reading the historical details as they were given me 
of you, I have been constantly reaching out after 
you with enthusiasm. I had been impatiently await- 
ing your arrival, and as soon as I caught sight of 
you, I was assured in my own mind that you were 
Sylvester as they call you. And it was this ardent 
desire to seize you that made the attempt on my 
part alarming to you.” 

By this time Sylvester felt perfectly satisfied that 
he had met with the right one, and after a hearty 
shaking of hands, he was escorted by the professor 
to his new home, where the incident was related, 
and many times afterward, with great merriment. 
Mrs. Gregnal was equally as well pleased with the 
looks and appearance of their new guest as her hus- 
band. ‘‘He seems to possess as much wisdom as the 
wise,” she feelingly remarked. 


236 


The Starless Crown. 


‘‘ Yes,” was the reply, “he does certainly possess 
a very peculiar charm. His manner of expression 
is eloquent for one of his years; we have reason to 
feel thankful that it is our privilege to know him, 
and have him with us. We will favor him with one 
of our best rooms and make him in every way as 
comfortable as we can.’- 

“As I judge him from sight and hearing there 
will be nothing left undone that I can do,” added 
Mrs. Gregnal forcibly. Then after a little planning 
and a few changes were made, Sylvester was invited 
to his room. - As he was about to cross the threshold 
he halted with a look of surprise and astonishment. 
“This is not to be my room.^” said he. 

“Does it please you.^” asked Mrs. Gregnal. 

“Please me! this is more than pleasing. It 
delights me, I am almost afraid I shall lose myself 
and become indolent if I am indulged in such com- 
forts as this,” pointing down to a beautiful cushioned 
self-rocker. 

“That is for your tired hours,” said Mrs. Greg- 
nal, when you shall need relaxation from study. We 
give you for your comfort a variety. This one,” 
said she, as she neared it, “3'OU can adjust to suit 
whatever position you choose. It can be made a 
very desirable seat at the desk, or otherwise as you 
like.” 

After giving him such instructions as were neces- 
sary and assuring him that the^’^ felt for him an 
ardent attachment, and that they should expect him 
to share with them in their enjoyments as one equal 
with themselves, and whatever his w^ant or wish 
might be, to feel at libert^^ to make it known to 
them, as unto his own parents, they bade him good 


His First Letter. 


237 


evening and left the room. Immediately after hav- 
ing been left alone Sylvester amused himself by 
taking a general survey of his apartment, viewing 
the different ornaments with great admiration; the 
beautiful carpet with its rich colors, the handsome 
bedstead, all the equipment for convenience and 
enjoyment, which was to him far beyond anything 
his young eyes had ever seen, or his imagination 
conceived. Then, with a great amount of genuine 
satisfaction he settled himself to pen a descriptive 
view of his room and its contents to his parents. 
He gave them a full account of his journey and 
what he saw by the way ; the incident at the 
depot that marked his arrival with special amuse- 
ment. He dwelt largely upon the necessity of a 
well calculated arrangement always, and the price- 
less value of a photograph. He spoke in high terms 
of Professor Gregnal as one whom he believed to 
be eminently useful, and one who would be to him 
a constant and confiding friend. Of Mrs. Gregnal 
he said, “Mother, I think she has a heart like 
yours.” 

In conclusion he said his reasons for gratitude 
were innumerable since Providence had marked out 
for him so happy a lot. 

“Make me. assured of your kind remembrance of 
me, by your oft-repeated communications,” etc., 
after which he folded the sheets, enclosed them in 
an envelope and retired for the night. 

At early dawn he awoke, and remembered that 
there were several little duties to which he should 
turn his attention. A review of his letter was 
necessary; a few additions were yet to be made, and 
without fail it must be at the postoffice in time to 


238 


The Starless Crown. 


go out in the first mail. There was, as he saw, no 
time to lose, and at the breakfast hour his first let- 
ter home had been mailed, and he was as nearly as 
possible in readiness to accompany the professor to 
the college where he was interested by being shown 
the different departments of which the library was 
the one best suited to his taste. It afforded him 
great satisfaction on being told that he could take 
his choice and read whichever book was most inter- 
esting to him, and if any work was found, which 
he could not comprehend, it would be explained 
to him as a cheerful privilege, rather than a formal 
duty. 

How beneficially the first week passed away. He 
could turn to where he already had noted in his diary 
some important facts such as he should be pleased 
to look back upon in later years. He had thought 
much of the incidents that might happen during his 
College course and had prepared himself for them, 
perhaps as much so, if not more, than most persons 
would who were about to take a trip around the 
world. One thing of particular moment to him was 
the differences he had so soon to learn in human 
nature. He had not cast a glance into the future 
with a single thought that there would be an embar- 
rassment of any kind with which to struggle after 
he had overcome the home difficulties, and become 
permanently settled to pursue his study for the 
ministry. But, alas! he soon found it to be no 
uncommon thing for Satan to dwell in structures 
made with hands. That upon one common level, 
and under the same banner of Christian influence 
with those whose hearts were devotedly attached to 
the cause of honor and religious integrity, were 


New Experiences. 


239 

those too, whose hearts were apparently petrihed, 
whom he was destined to meet, and into whose 
society he was frequently thrown, even to the depths 
of their unwise heroism, so much so that he had to 
battle with reason and repeated temptations which 
were to him a trial of his faith, and he was glad to 
knowingl}’ remember that on 

“ The stem on which the thorns were grown 
The sweet and beauteous rose had blown.” 

In a conversation with Professor Gregnal, he said, 
exceedingly fear and tremble lest I be destroyed 
by the destroyer. Doubtless I should be, were it 
not that I have ‘steadfastly set m3’ face to go to 
Jerusalem.’” 

The Professor with serious tone and winning smile, 
gentl}" laid one hand upon his shoulder with the 
encouragement, “The all-wise, abiding One gave 
us an assurance when he said, ‘ My grace is sufficient 
for thee.’” 

After the lapse of a few days, on his return from 
recitation, he found in the postoffice a letter of 
more than ordinary size, and recognizing the hand- 
writing, he rapidly made his wa}’ to his room with 
a heart palpitating with jo3dul expectation of home 
news. 

First, on unfolding the sheet he found various and 
many pressed flowers, such as he recognized as hav- 
ing grown in the old familiar 3^ard, each with a 
small attached slip of paper, with the name of the 
sister or brother who had selected and pressed it 
with care. Also, a few words lovingly penned in a 
neat fine hand. As he looked them over piece by 
piece, how he wept, but those tears were tears of 


340 


The Starless Crown. 


gratitude for the manifestation of their kind brotherly 
and sisterly love. Before reading his eyes rested 
upon the print of a hand written across it, ‘‘Mother’s 
hand,” “Mother’s hand!” he exclaimed aloud, almost 
terrified, then, after a few moments’ consideration 
he quieted down and read: 

My Dear Boy Sylvester: 

Your letter came right straight through, and all of us was 
almost tickled to death, but when I came to read it out loud 
so they could all hear,^la-w, I choked and had to hand it over 
to Katie Ann. In a little while she was as bad as myself,, 
and passed it over to Lucas and he finished reading it all 
through. What a blessed thing it was that I had Elder Fin- 
ley send up that photograph. I thought of some just 

such things that might happen you. There is no safety in 
being off on the cars alone, or stopping off among 'strangers. 
Oh, I am so thankful that man had that picture, and now you 
are there all right; if they can only seem like good warm 
friends, what a blessed good thing it will be. If there is any 
thing you want, you must let a body know it. You needn’t 
be afraid to spend money, your father and I have been talking 
it over, that if there should he any lack, we can part with a 
yoke of oxen, as there will be about thirty young head to 
•break this winter. Oh, my dear boy, you are near enough my 
heart to lay my hand on you every day, and so I thought I 
would just mark it down. All of us will fix a little flower 
for you out of that old flower bed you used to fuss with so 
much. We are all of us as well as when you went away. 
Now I’ll leave off writing. Write home often as you can 
have time, and be sure to come as soon as school is out. 

My precious child, good-bye, 

AIother. 

P. S. Father savs he thinks of you every hour in the 
day. 

Few persons aside from those under the same cir- 
cumstances could realize the value of this letter to 
Sylvester. The slip of paper upon which Aunt 
Susan .had stamped the print of her hand was to 


A Glimpse of Student Life. 241 

Sylvester of great prize, so much so that ever after 
those who visited his room could see fastened to the 
glass on the inside of the book-case the paper upon 
which was the imprint of a hand, with the words, 
‘‘Mother’s hand.” Also, all the little pressed flowers 
were carefull}’ kept in a neat basket given him by 
Mrs. Gregnal for that purpose. 

Among the many various incidents that tend to 
either make glad or gloom the student’s heart, there 
are, at least but few calculated to particularly interest 
the mind of the reading public. It is therefore 
unnecessary that we should closely follow Sylvester 
through his college course, but simply say his home 
during his entire stay was in the family of Professor 
Gregnal, whose attachment to him became very 
strong. He was the favorite among his classmates, 
and so universally esteemed and respected that he 
was looked upon as a monument of purity and per- 
fection. During the few years that were required 
to get possession of that knowledge by which he 
was to become established upon the grounds of 
ministerial usefulness, he visited his beloved kindred 
as frequently and surely as one vacation followed 
the other. As he would say, the pleasure he derived 
in going home could have no equal. It would be 
pleasing to relate the many interesting events con- 
nected with his visits home that we shall be obliged 
to omit. There is, however, one in particular that 
we cannot pass unnoticed. Some two years previous 
to the one in which he graduated, whilst on a visit 
home, he was expected to fill the pulpit in the old 
home church in Kingumton. 

The arrangement had been made between Sylves- 
ter and Rev. E. Finley unknown to any other indi- 

16 


242 


The Starless Crown. 


vidual until the time came. When the hrst mention 
was made to Uncle Joe and Aunt Susan it threw 
them into a sad state of excitement. He would 
break down they were sure, and for a while felt they 
could not, dare not go to hear him for fear they 
should see him make some unearthly blunder that 
would mortify them almost to death. 

Said Aunt Susan, ‘Won have not got to be a 
preacher 3'et, S3dvester; 3'Ou know 3'ou have not got 
near through with all there is for you to learn. You 
had best wait until 3^ou get a little older and stronger, 
I think, and more used to standing up before people, 
and having them all staring right at 3"ou.” 

Sylvester turned with a smile and said, ‘‘Mother, 
were I to fall, one man could pick me up.” 

“Yes, but then I should feel so ’shamed, I think, 
Sylvester, that I will stay at home.” 

“No, no, mother! You must go. Should there 
be anything that would cause me to faint, it would 
be because 1113^ parents desert me. Your fear is 3^our 
lack of faith. It is written, ‘by faith 3^e stand.’” 

It was at length decided that the entire famil3^ 
should go. The seats were free in the old Kingum- 
ton church, and according to the ordinary practice, 
members of one family would be scattered here and 
there in the audience room wherever they happened 
to get. Aunt Susan’s fears and apprehensions were 
such that she wanted her little band near together, 
as she said, “We must get a place for all our children 
close by, and you, Joe, ’long beside of me.” 

At the regular hour for service, the church was 
filled to its utmost capacity. Special care had been 
taken to secure seats, such as were the most desira- 
ble for the family of Mr. Kinkade, and where, in 


Preaching at Kingumton. 


243 


due time they wei'e snugly seated, with an unnatural 
look, which manifested itself still more and more, 
when their eyes followed Sylvester as he passed 
down the aisle in company with Elder Finley, and 
up the pulpit steps. 

A broad foot-stool had been prepared for him, 
and as he took his stand upon it, it could not have 
been said of him, “you are an inferior little mortal.” 

Far from it, every eye was charmed, and every 
heart was made tender to the touch of words. He 
stood before them in appearance not otherwise than 
as one tempered with the spirit of grace. He chose 
as the foundation of his remarks words found in 
Revelation 20: 12. “And I saw the dead, the great 
and the small, standing before the throne, and books 
were opened, and another book was opened which 
is the book of life ; and the dead were judged out of 
the things which were written in the books, accord- 
ing to their works.” 

He spoke in very tender and touching language 
of that day as described in the text, which completes 
the termination and seals the unchangeable condition 
of man. He spoke largely on the incarnation of the 
Son of God, His special love and labor for fallen 
man, and clearly presented the plan of salvation. 
He referred back to the antediluvian age of the 
world, and spoke of the different tribes and their 
genealogies, the historical books of scripture, and 
the books of God that were being kept, the record 
of man. He dwelt largely upon the Book of Life, 
the beauties of heaven, the dwelling place of the 
most high God, the prince of peace ; also, the 
sure abiding place for the lovers of God. He told 
them it was the lovers of God whose names were 


244 The Starless Crown. 

written in the Book of Life, those who had become 
justified by faith, and were heirs of God, and joint 
heirs with Jesus Christ. Fie dwelt long upon the 
sad condition of the unconverted, and the dismal 
fate of being shut out away from the lamp of God, 
and the light of heaven. He spoke of the depravity 
of the human heart, and the subtilty of Satan in 
winning man to conciliate with him, and wander far 
from the path of rectitude ; but he told them that 
Christ, the great Pattern, had marked out a sure 
and living way, and His desire for man was, that 
they should allow Him to be a lamp to their feet and 
a light to their path. He reminded them in tender 
accents that each one must stand or fall for himself. 
That each one must answer at the bar of God for 
the deeds done in the body, and be judged as the 
text says, “Out of the things which were written in 
the books according to their works.” 

In conclusion, he referred the minds of his hearers, 
those who were in Christ, to look forward to that 
great and notable day of the Lord as one much to 
be desired, as it was that one in which the}’ were to 
be permanently crowned with immortal glory and 
made to walk the golden streets of the new Jerusa- 
lem. 

With a desire to still further interest and instruct 
he described the material of which the wall of the 
City was made, giving to his hearers the color, beauty 
and durability of each of the twelve species of stone ; 
also the dimensions of the City. 

“We read,” said he, ‘“he that spoke with me had 
for a measure a golden reed to measure the City, and 
he measured the City with the reed 12,000 furlongs.’ 
Twelve thousand furlongs are equal to 1,500 miles, 


A Stirring Discourse. 


245 


making the City cover 2,250,000 square miles of 
the earth’s surface. Being equal in height must have 
been 1,500 miles high, which would give 3,375,000,- 

000 cubic miles which the City contained. Then 
each building in the City would allow 480,000 stories, 
each one rod high. Such is the vastness of the 
City of our God. ‘Blessed are they that wash their 
robes, that they may have the right to come to the 
tree of life and may enter in by the gates into the 
City.’” 

When Sylvester had done speaking the whole con- 
gregation seemed awe-stricken and amazed. Rev. 
Finley arose and pronounced the benediction, imme- 
diately after which Sylvester was thronged by the 
multitude with greeting and shaking of hands. So 
highly was he appreciated b}^ his hearers, and so 
affectionately did they cling to him that it was not 
the privilege of his parents to ha^ e him accompany 
them home until after the evening service. 

By the family of Mr. Kinkade there was scarce!}^ 
a word spoken until after they reached their destina- 
tion, then much to the gratification of all present. 
Uncle Joe straightened himself up with his peculiar 
air, and said: “Susan, wife, what I have heard our 
boy say to-day is worth more to me than all the wheat 

1 gathered off the forty-acre fallow field.” 

“Yes, I guess so too,” said Aunt Susan. “I 
if I don’t think Sylvester is going to make a right 
down smart little minister.” The children joined in 
having a word to say in his behalf, having been, as 
they were, delighted with his appearance in the pul- 
pit for the first time in their home church. During 
the evening, soon after they had returned from ser- 
vice, while Sylvester was engaged in reading, and 


246 


The Starless Crown. 


Aunt Susan was attending to some necessary duties 
in the kitchen, she began to think over something she 
had heard at church, very seriously. She at length 
turned and walked through the rooms near to where 
Sylvester was sitting, and with one corner of her 
apron in her hand she halted with a stern considerate 
look for a moment, then spoke out very meaningly, 
“you know, Sylvester, what you said about the size 
of Jerusalem.” 

“Certainly.” 

“Now do you suppose you got that all ciphered 
out exactly right?” 

“ Oh yes, mother, that was ciphered before my 
day.” 

“Ho, ho,” shouted Frankie, “that was what I 
was watchin’ to hear.” 

“What we learn is that which others have known 
before us,” Sylvester meekly replied. 

It was an indisputable fact that his growth in 
knowledge was far beyond the most sanguine expecta- 
tion. He not only surprised, but greatl}" surpassed 
those his senior in years. 

His predominant influence as a Christian, his amia- 
bility of character, his intellectual qualifications, all 
combined to make him one of the first in the sphere 
of eminence ; and he graduated with honor. 


Saul’s Reputation. 


247 


CHAPTER XXVII. 


While we should dearly love to cling closely to 
Sylvester and follow him on through his first eccle- 
siastical duties as pastor, we are obliged to leave 
him for the time being and return to where we left 
Sophia at Uncle Sammy Smith’s. ' 

‘‘Saul, I really feel anxious. Do you have any 
idea why you are sent for so immediately.^” 

“I can form no definite conclusion. I judge it, 
however, to be something of importance.” 

As there was no time to lose, he was obliged to 
eat rapidly and hasten to the depot. It was plain 
to all eyes that some terrible burden was weighing 
heavily upon the mind of Sophia. Not feeling at 
liberty to ask for an explanation, but if possible to 
interest her. Uncle Sammy resumed his conversation. 

“Then Saul is a double-fisted lawyer, is he.^ I 
am sorry he had to go so soon, I should like to have 
seen more of him.” 

“Yes, Saul is number one in Copperville.” 

“I should judge so, to look at him. Most likely 
holds a good deal of power.” 

“He is very influential, indeed. He has done 
more business, and made more friends since he has 
been in Copperville than most persons would in five 
times as long.” 

“Must be pretty honorable then, I guess.” 

“ Why, he believes if a person wishes to become 
successful in the world, they must possess religious 


248 


The Starless Crown. 


integrity. He says that is the only sure ground upon 
which can be planted all that is fruit bearing.” 

“Then he’s more than likely a church member.” 

“Yes, indeed, he is alive in the church, you would 
soon have learned that, had he remained. He is 
one of the so-called seed sowers.” 

“I want to know! His father was a great ortho- 
dox man, but I ’ve not seen him in a good many 
years, not since Saul was a little shaver. I am glad 
to know he makes a worthy, wise and witty man. 
He is a smart looking fellow, any one can see at 
once he has the genuine metal in him. I expect then 
had he staid, he would have been for trying to change 
my views, but I tell you, Sophia, I am pretty well 
set on this predestination question, or election as I 
sometimes speak, it’s all the same thing. I will tell 
you how I look at it. Moses was found in the 
bulrushes, now if God had not foreordained that he 
should be saved by being placed there, he would not 
have been. In that one place we have a very plain 
figure of predestination, and there are lots of just 
such in the Bible. 

Then beside that, I set my mark on a good many 
close around home. Not long ago a man died, they 
told me he was a church member awa}^ back, but I 
never see anything like it in‘all the years I knowed 
him. When that man came to die the neighbors 
said he died a triumphant death, and if he did, there 
could be nothing any surer than that he was one of 
the elect. Right on the other hand, I have knowed 
folks who lived right in the heart of a meeting house, 
but when they came to die, they died mourning 
because they hadn’t been better, and it proved to my 
mind that they had not happened to be members of 


“Out of the Mouth of Babes.' 


the elect body; so it made no difference with them, 
they were lost at last after having lived a self denying 
life.” 

At this point in the conversation Aunt Tabbathy 
put in a word by saying she believed in just such 
doctrine as young Elder Kinkade preached, and that 
is, faith in Christ. “ According to that then, faith 
does the whole thing, and that is why some folks die 
such triumphant deaths. It’s because they had an 
internal faith that no one could see.” 

“No, that is not as he says, but plainly declares 
that faith without works is dead. The Bible says it. 
It must be both faith and works; then, as I see it, if 
some folks have, and others have not faith, it is 
because faith is given to some and not to others.” 

“I think,” said Aunt Tabbathy, “that faith is 
given to those who have a desire for it and who will 
take pleasure in asking for it of Him who giveth.” 

“I can explain it, father,” said a ten year old boy. 
“Just look here,” holding up a short piece of tin pipe. 
Can you see me through this ’ere pipe.^” 

“Yes, Thaddie, I can see 3'ou plainly.” 

Then wadding up one end, he said again: “Can 
you see me now ? ” 

“No, for you have stopped up one end of it.” 

“Well, that is just how you do, }^ou can’t see 
through the pipe of Christianity to the great center 
of truth because you stop up one end with the wad 
of your unbelief.” 

After a short pause, said Uncle Samm}^: “Well, 
Sophia, I have lived to see the day that 1113^ boys 
get ahead of me. That boy is one of Elder Kin- 
kade’s converts. He baptized him. We would not 
have allowed him to handle one of the other boys. 


250 


The Starless Crown. 


but Thaddie is a slender light little fellow. What, 
Sophia, do you think about these things.^ ” 

“I don’t think anything about them. I never 
bother my brain with such matters. I expect, like 
all others, to die some time, but I put that a great 
ways ahead. I don’t believe in this thinking and 
talking all the time about dying.” 

“Then you are not a church member.^” 

“No, nor do I expect to be. I am as good out- 
side as others are in it.” 

“How do you and Saul agree, then.^” 

“We do not, we always disagree in almost every- 
thing. We are friends but scarcely ever see alike.” 

“If that is so, I am most afraid you will stand a 
poor chance with this little Elder Kinkade of whom 
I have been telling you. He is a great favorite with 
everyone here. We believe there have been several 
additions to the church on his account. He has only 
been pastor a short time, but has gained the good 
will of the rich and poor, the high and low, of every 
rank and position. We can’t help but note the .dif- 
ference. He used to be talked about as little, smalk 
tiny, etc., but of late you only hear him spoken of as 
short or low of stature ; as I see it, the thing shows 
for itself, that there are any amount of ladies whose 
heads overtop his by far who would to-day feel proud 
could they have the privilege of becoming Mrs. Kin- 
kade. I recommend that you keep middling smooth, 
Sophia, you may like the looks of him, and to get 
him you would have to be pretty fair, I will assure 
you of that.” 

Sophia had grown dull. Her heart was in Copper- 
ville. She could not enjoy the conversation, neither 
could she hide her feelings, although she tried hard. 


Sophia in Kingumton. 251 

When the first invitation was given for retirement, 
she readily accepted it, and immediately after 
having been left alone, she hastily penned a short 
letter to her mother, and asked for a speedy reply. 

Early the next morning Sophia with Cousin Fanny 
walked to the postoffice with the letter, to be sure it 
went out the first mail, then they walked as far 
around town as the length of time would admit and 
returned at the breakfast hour. What she saw wa^v 
so refreshing to her that she felt in a much happier 
mood than she had been the previous evening. 

‘‘We will give you your choice,” said Aunt Tab^ 
bathy, “ride or rest this forenoon. This afternoon 
there will be many in to call on you, mostly relatives. 
It is pretty generally known that you are here, and 
all feel anxious to see you. We often speak of our 
Copperville friends, and we consider it quite a treat 
to have the privilege of knowing them. We shall 
endeavor to do all in our power to make your stay 
pleasant. We do not want you to return with regrets, 
for having been with us.” 

“I shall have justice done me, I am quite sure of 
that, but must acknowledge I have not so far 
done justice to myself ; I did really feel discomfited 
in consequence of Saul’s unlooked-for dispatch.” 

Why Sophia should feel particular!}^ disturbed in 
consequence of Saul’s business was a question, and 
one discussed only between Uncle Sammy and Aunt 
Tabbathy. 

As Sophia preferred to ride it gave them an exceb 
lent opportunity to work festal preparations unknown 
to her. She having been so low-spirited, it was 
their united opinion that a surprise might have a 
favorable effect, and for this reason they took the 


252 The Starless Crown. 

greater pleasure in so doing. It was secretly arranged 
that the drive should be long enough to occup}^ con- 
siderable time, and that they should stop at the 
home of one of the relatives for dinner, who lived 
in the furthermost district, that their return might 
be at the general assembling of the guests, and but 
a little prior to the banqueting hour. 

It was a lovely morning. The wind blew a gen- 
tle gale; the air was fragrant with sweet brier, spear- 
mint and penny ro3^al that grew in clusters along the 
highwa^^ and thickets, when Guy Smith, with his 
new cousin, for politeness’ sake chose the most roman- 
tic line of drive known in the vicinity. It led 
through dense woodlands, around huge hills with their 
rocky sides and precipices, over sluice-ways and log 
built wagon roads, with scarcely a dwelling house 
for miles to be seen, and but few fields of stubble or 
ripened corn. Guy could not have chosen a better 
plan to have elevated his cousin’s mind and stamped 
upon her memory a brighter spot than this one. * To 
Sophia the new wild romantic scenery overwhelmed 
those unpleasant reflections and drove them from her 
mind. 

But a surprise was yet to come. As they turned 
the last hillside, the}^ came in sight of a magnificent 
dwelling, whose occupants were of those who helped 
fill out the long line of relationship. 

‘ ‘ Heaven bless me ! ” she exclaimed. “ How truly 
grand ! Guy, is there as much style in the house as 
is to be seen outside.^” 

“Wait just a minute and you shall see,” was his 
reply, as he snapped the whip and drove with speed 
to the horse block. 

The friendly greeting, the cheerful faces, the 


The Surprise Party. 


253 


beautiful rooms with their rich carpets and costly 
furniture all helped increase the glow that had kindled 
in her eye. Sophia was overjoyed ; she was sure of 
a pleasant stay there, and no doubt that is as it 
would have proved, had it not happened that she 
caught a whisper of something being planned that 
was not told to her. This caused a little disquiet 
on her part, but she did not allow herself to interro- 
gate in the matter. She was, however, highly 
pleased with the looks and appearance of her new 
relatives, and at the appointed hour, with the promise 
of seeing them again soon, bade them good day. 

She did see them again the same afternoon, but 
where, at 'what point, of turn in the road she and 
Cousin Gu}^ had been passed and left in the rear was 
a question. But there they were, the very faces of 
those she had bidden good day only an hour previous, 
among the first to be seen awaiting their arrival 
near the gate at Uncle Sammy’s. 

The surprise was wonderful, and so must be sup- 
posed the secret which had produced a feeling of 
disquiet was at once openly presented, and more 
especially so, as she entered the hall in sight of the 
many others whom she had not before seen, and 
caught a slight glimpse of the extensive table set- 
ting. She rapidly hastened to her room in company 
with Fanny, who soon made her acquainted with 
their object, as being one calculated to promote her 
happiness and increase her acquaintance. Sophia 
was highly pleased, and with this sensation at heart, 
she was soon tastefully dressed and in ample readiness 
to go down into the parlor, where she had the grati- 
fication of being introduced to a vast number of 
uncles, aunts and cousins, some few of whom were 


254 


Thk Starless Crown. 


first, second and others even third in the rank of 
relationship. 

Sophia understood perfectly well that she was 
being looked upon with superiority, such as she was 
not accustomed to ordinarily. To be truthful, accord- 
ing to the common mode of speaking, ‘They all 
took a shine,” and with this glow of estimation in 
her behalf, she received many compliments which 
•combined with her already egotistical self-esteem, 
and aided largely in bringing around that which 
might be referred to by those more familiar with 
her, as one of her sunny-faced days, for the reason 
that she ever had a peculiar habit of showing out- 
right the presiding sentiment of her mind, whether 
joy or sorrow. A few minutes prior to being seated 
at the table, Sophia caught a distinct view of some 
one strikingly beautiful to her, and without pausing 
to consider she exclaimed aloud, and said, “Why, 
what sweet-faced little boy is that, is he a cousin, 
too.^” Almost before the syllables had died upon 
her lips. Uncle Sammy turned around, and with an 
air of joy advanced toward the incoming one and 
cordially invited him to walk in, after which the 
introduction of Rev. Sylvester Kinkade to Miss 
Sophia Brown ensued. Even a minute description 
of all that was pleasing and engaging during the 
short stay of about two hours at Uncle Sammy’s 
would fill no small space in the history of our story. 
But we must leave it unnoticed, only giving the mere 
sketch as an occasion suitably compared to a holiday 
festival. So greatly was the occasion appreciated 
by Sophia that she enquired, “If such was the begin- 
ning, what was she to expect the ending would be.” 

“I have it ciphered out in my mind,” said Uncle 


A Frivoi.ous Mind. 


255 


Sammy. “You will return with more than you 
brought. In m3" opinion, you have made a very 
favorable impression. I don’t believe there is 
another one in one hundred miles that could have 
produced the same sensation you have. Why, 3"ou 
didn’t even go to the postoffice without being 
noticed and enquired about. I tell you, Sophia, 
3^our coming here is going to be a dangerous thing 
for you.” 

Uncle Sammy had not the most remote idea of 
the depth his language fathomed. To Sophia the con- 
versation was like striking off a match. Her mind 
went whirling back to the da3" Saul entered her sick 
room onl}^ a short time prior to their departure for 
Kingumton. She reconsidered his remark that 
“there was sunshine all over the world,” and her 
own sill}^ wa3" of turning his well intended meaning 
into frivolit3\ 

“What the termination will be,” she silentU said 
to herself “I can not distinctl}" see. This little Elder 
Kinkade is a sweet looking fellow, but it would be 
woeful to have him for a husband.” With the belief 
that mother’s dreams were indicative, and that there 
was being held in the future a golden goblet that she 
must sometime, and before long, hold in her own hand, 
the fountain of her expectation seemed deepened 
and she became more and more brilliant. The first 
few days were principally spent riding, receiving calls, 
making new acquaintances, with nothing of moment 
to speak of after the banquet until Sophia received 
her first letter from home. Whilst we cannot cop}^ 
it entire we must necessarily communicate a portion 
of its contents. 

Aunt Sabrina had been pleased with Sophia’s note. 


256 


The Starless Crown. 


so timely written and more especially as it agreed 
with Saul’s narrative after his return. She assured 
Sophia that it would be useless to think of Dr. Green 
as a friend, that she guessed he had tried to have 
for specials, every one whom he had looked upon 
with admiration, until there were several to whom 
he had been engaged, and three he was to have 
married in ‘^flowery June.” She told her old Mrs. 
Joel Amos had been over with her thousand troubles, 
and that it was the truth, their Nancy had gone 
crazy. That the people were determined to hnd 
Green and bring him to justice, and that was why 
Saul had to be sent for right away, as nothing could 
be done without him. 

Sophia was urged not to speak of Dr. Green, at 
all events, not to have any one know he had been 
her friend. She told her it was true that Tom 
had accepted a position in the First National Bank, 
and that Aunt Delilah had been provided for hand- 
somely, and that the family conferred upon her the 
honor of being called Mother. She instructed Sophia 
to confide in her above all others, and reassured her 
of her constancy as a friend and mother. Said she 
had reason to believe her going to Kingumton would 
be to her a success as she still continued to dream 
that which denoted good luck and happiness. 

While the letter afforded Sophia some degree of 
satisfaction, it also contained much she could not 
relish. She would have heard anything else of Aunt 
Delilah than that she had been fortunately favored 
by the revered gentleman to whom she had been 
married. The thought of Tom’s success and eleva- 
tion was to her as irritating as a mustard plaster and 
more painful by far. The thought of surrendering 


The Visit Continued. 


257 


up all hope of ever becoming Mrs. Green, caused 
an irritability of mind, and she resolved to make a 
strike and accomplish something that would result 
in good fortune to her before leaving Kingumton. 

The change in Sophia’s looks and deportment 
together with her reluctant disposition to allow 
Uncle Sammy and Aunt Tabbathy the privilege of 
knowing any news the letter contained, not even in 
regard to Saul, of whom they so much cared to 
hear, in connection with a short notice in the ‘‘Daily 
News,” gave them to understand the changes to 
which Sophia was so soon seen to be subject, had a 
meaning, as well as that her amiability of character 
had not the soundness the}^ had hoped for in the 
beginning. They were not willing, however, that a 
word should be spoken, or an insinuation dropped 
that would tend to eclipse her prosperity, but in 
every possible wa}’ endeavor to cheerfully encourage 
her onward with the belief, that, whatever the ill 
might be, there was always room for improvement. 
At Uncle Sammy’s during the week there was a 
continual coming and going, similar to that of a 
public inn. In this particular Sophia was much 
delighted, as it gave her a chance to see many she 
would not otherwise have seen. Not only so, but 
she came in possession of all the leading topics cur- 
rent in the town. 

“You are having friends from afar,” said a clever- 
spoken lady one day. 

“Yes, Cousin Sophia,” replied Aunt Tabbathy, 
pointing toward her. 

“And husband.^ ” 

“She is not married.” 

“Excuse me,” said the lady, “I merely formed 


17 


25S 


The Starless Crown. 


that idea by seeing a stranger this morning on the 
walk with your husband.” 

The crimson hue deeply tinted Sophia’s face in 
one moment, and without stopping to think twice, 
she sprang hastily from her seat and in a few minutes 
she was on the walk near the hotel buildings, and 
on to the depot where she remained until train time, 
confidently assured in her own mind that the stranger 
was no other than Dr. Green in quest of her, but to 
her astonishment caught sight of one whom she 
recognized as an officer from Dunberr}'. Sinking 
down sorrowfully, she remembered the statement as 
given her by her mother and it was her solemn 
impression that instead of Dr. Green being in quest 
of her, he was the one being sought by a Dunberry 
detective. With the hope that no notice had been 
taken of her by the officer she speedily retraced her 
steps homeward, making a short call in one of 
the business houses to procure a few articles as an 
excuse to cover her “thoughtless move,” as she 
termed it ; but fortunate or contrariwise as the case 
may be considered, the keen, observing e3’e of the 
detective had been set upon her critically while on 
the walk before reaching the depot. And just as 
sure as that stars shine in a moonlight night, just 
so sure he studied out her destination, and before 
leaving town confidentially put a flea in Uncle 
Samm3^’s ear. This information tended to confirm 
their previous suspicion. The3^ believed there had 
been a mishap of some kind, but whatever it might 
be, it would be wise in them to keep prudently still, 
with the hope that her visit might have a happ3^ 
termination. It was also their opinion that the stor3^ 
might have been heightened in its representation. 


Dr. Green Once More. 


259 


the truth of which would be known when Saul came 
to accompany her home. 

It so happened through a roundabout communica- 
tion that Saul became acquainted with the report 
that one of Dr. Green’s favorites who was stopping 
in Kingumton had been judged from her appear- 
ance to be on the lookout for him. This aroused 
the feelings of Saul to an almost indescribable extent, 
but after considering the matter carefully, he wrote 
Sophia kindly and affectionately, sent a copy of the 
report and sincerely commended her to cheerfulness 
and stability of mind, also giving her the assurance 
that she would never again see the face of Dr. Green. 
At this time also he addressed a confidential let- 
ter to Aunt Tabbathy, giving her an idea of Sophia’s 
general turn of mind, and his desire to promote her 
well-being. He revealed to her the partiality with 
which she had regarded one, who had introduced him- 
self into Copperville as Dr. Green, and to whom 
she had been betrothed, and to whom her affections 
had become so permanently riveted that they were 
apparently inseparable. He gave her his established 
opinion of Dr. Green, as one too deepl}^ dyed with 
villainy to even dare remain on the ground of the 
American Continent. This statement at first sadl}' 
harrowed the feelings of Uncle Sammy and Aunt 
Tabbathy, but after much private conversation, they 
both determined to persevere in well doing, and if 
possible, be instrumental in officiating in her behalf ; 
hoping a change might take place agreeable to Saul’s 
judgment. 

The days of the week came and went and among 
the different family connections Sophia was kept 
tossed about, but not permitted to be long away 


26o 


The Starless Crown. 


from under the light of x\unt Tabbathy’s eye. In 
time, it was observed that Sophia appeared quite 
willing to accompany her cousin to church and Sab- 
bath school, not only as one going simply for com- 
pany’s sake, but she began to take part as one having- 
become deeply interested. Her act of attending the 
sacred service was encouraging to Aunt Tabbathy, 
who was an ardent lover of Christianity. She there- 
fore addressed a letter to Saul, saying she thought 
it would be utterly wrong to remove Sophia from 
Kingumton, that the influence she was under seemed 
to be having a glorious effect. 

Saul, delighted with the report, was more than 
glad to have her remain, and congratulated Aunt 
Tabbathy for her motherly success and guardianship. 
Sophia became so interested and active in every point 
of duty, that Elder Kinkade’s calls were more fre- 
quently made than usual, apparently from a sense of 
his obligation to his Maker as an instructor, and so 
closely were his remarks conflned to generalities that 
even the most severe critic could not have seen any 
distinction made in her favor. 

As Aunt Tabbathy said later, she never discovered 
wherein Elder Kinkade spoke three more words to 
Sophia than to her own daughters, and in no per- 
ceivable way whatever was manifested the least inti- 
mation of a forthcoming relationship, and she was 
sure their mutual understanding must have grown 
from that silent language which glides unremitting 
from eye to eye, and heart to heart. But let it be 
whichever way it may, ere they were aware the 
fibers of good-will, and social friendship had twined 
together into one indissoluble knot. 

At the period in which the fact was made known 


The Engagement Announced. 


261 


in the family, Uncle Sammy shook his sides with 
laughter. “Upon my life,” said he, “I never would 
have believed it. I admit I was honest in saying 
she had made a favorable impression. I believed 
that, but I supposed the sensation would die out like 
a flying spark.” 

As must be supposed, when their affection for each 
other became known, their mutuality was considered 
no longer a privacy. When Elder Kinkade called, 
there was no further need of restraint between the 
two, and he spent much time in her presence. 

While Sophia exhibited no small degree of affec- 
tion, it was seriously questioned by those who had 
become familiar with her history. Had Aunt Tab- 
bathy felt more at libert}’ to express her opinion at 
the time of the announcement of their engagement, 
she would have said there was a misrepresentation 
on the part of Sophia, and that Elder Kinkade was 
being led blindfolded into that which would sooner 
or later overthrow his happiness, if not his useful- 
ness. She believed that he was truly enamored 
with her, but on her part he was simply a make- 
shift. She distinctly remembered Sophia’s remarks 
the first day of her being with them, and she had no 
reason to think her particularly changed, but under 
their influence had hoped she would become so. As 
she was sure she was not, it was an affliction to 
Aunt Tabbathy to think Elder Kinkade, the pride 
and admiration of the parish, should select for a 
mate one in no wa}’ his equal. 

It ver}^ luckily happened one morning, when 
Sophia was absent that Elder Kinkade called, and 
apparently was desirous of consulting Aunt Tab- 
bathy in regard to his future plans. This gave her 


262 


The Starless Crown. 


a favorable opportunity of ascertaining the very fact 
she wished to learn. In their conversation she took 
the privilege to inquire if he felt confident of having 
made a wise choice, with the assurance that she was 
very anxious in his behalf. 

“Oh yes, yes!” he unhesitatingly replied. “First 
I found her in a good place. Her looks and appear- 
ance charmed me the moment I set my eyes upon 
her, besides I find her to be all heart.” 

“Whilst I would not oppose,” said Aunt Tabba- 
thy, “I have fears for the reason that I have no 
proof of her being one suitable for you.” 

“In what sense,” he inquired. 

“ In the confirmation of Christian faith.” 

“Oh, but she has become confirmed in the faith, 
and though she has not yet made a public profession, 
she is the next thing to it. She is now prepared to 
take the last step. You know there are those who 
do sometimes present a thoughtlessness, when it is 
not their treasured sentiment. She has not been 
long with you, and she may not have expressed her- 
self to you in a way to have you understand the 
true worth of her character from a spiritual point 
of view ; but ro me, when alone, she has unfolded 
her whole bosom. You feel, perhaps, as mother 
does ; she thinks because I am short, that I should 
have a short, chubb}’ wife. I think she appreciates 
Sophia’s value, judging more from family connection 
than personal acquaintance, but is not so well pleased 
for the reason that she is so tall. Height is admira- 
ble to me. Sophia possesses some rare beauties, of 
which that is one. If she can condescend to accept 
me with my so-called deformity, I have the greater 
reason to appreciate her.’' 


Sophia’s Marriage. 


263 


While Rev. Sylvester Kinkacle was as true in his 
love and admiration for Sophia as a mother for her 
off -spring, Aunt Tabbathy’s wisdom and previous 
knowledge was all that was needed to know the 
depth of her piety. She had reason to believe the 
rise and progress of her religion was based upon the 
man rather than his Maker. A cloud of impending 
sorrow hung over her mind, and she wondered why 
it should be permitted, that one so void of genuine 
religious integrity should become joined to and under 
the same seal with him, that beloved servant of 
Christ in his Apostleship. 

According to the best of her belief it could not be 
expected a change of feeling would take place on 
the part of Elder Kinkade ; and though it was a 
tangled mystery, it was the opinion of all interested 
that it was one destined long to remain. As it was 
predicted the trip to Kingumton would be a success 
to her, very truly ere the autumn had died into win- 
ter Sophia returned home to have made ready all 
that was necessary for her marriage, and whether 
happy or otherwise we will not say beyond that the 
oncoming holiday she was again in Kingumton the 
wedded wife of Rev. Sylvester Kinkade. 


264 


The Stareess Crown. 


CHAPTER XXVIII. 


Strange to say, upon that lovely Christmas morn- 
ing when the early incoming train brought Rev. 
Sylvester Kinkade and his newly wedded bride into 
Kingumton, there were no hearts ready at Father 
Kinkade’s to exclaim, ‘‘Hail, glorious morn!” 

Though Uncle Joe and Aunt Susan had a deep 
melancholy sensation at heart, the}’ had purposed 
for Sylvester’s sake to spare no pains whatever, but 
make every preparation in their power for a pleasant 
reception, which they did by inviting in as many of 
their friends as they could possibly accommodate. 
At an early hour the guests began to assemble with 
greetings and congratulations, most of whom pre- 
sented rich, rare and beautiful gifts. As far as could 
be understood from appearances all were happy- 
hearted, and as must be supposed there were those 
who felt extremely so in consequence of the pecul- 
iarity of the match which was to many a curiosity. 
Whilst Rev. Sylvester was dearly beloved, honored 
and respected, looked upon as a precious little jewel, 
the sight of him as husband by the side of one as 
tall as Sophia was rather remarkable, as many 
expressed it. 

The day merrily passed. Mirth and the sound of 
music was heard. The tables with their choice lux- 
uries and dainties were enjoyed, and no one seemed 
happier, and more to appreciate the festivity than 
Sylvester. Late in the afternoon, when Aunt Tab- 


// </// early hour the quests bei^au to assembte. 



C 






'rHE ReCEI’TIOX. 


267 


bathy thought no one was within hearing, she cau- 
tiously said to her husband: ‘‘This is a delightful 
entertainment, but to me there is no harmony in the 
music.” 

Aunt Susan, who was standing a little back, hid- 
den by a folding door, advanced, saying: 
if I don’t feel exactl}^ that way.” That which was 
current in the mind of Aunt Tabbathy was luckily 
unknown to Aunt Susan. According: to the g:eneral 
belief of the knowing public, the difference in their 
stature was the only distinction of moment, and that 
they felt should be all right, if right with them. It 
was referred to by one of the leading members, that 
they now had reached a point in the history of the 
church, in which must be expected a general growth. 
Mrs. Kinkade, having but so recently became con- 
firmed in the Christian faith, was the better calcu- 
lated to influence the younger minds, as well as to 
be a pattern for the older ones, and would without 
doubt, associate herself with her husband in doing 
much for the prosperity of Zion. The}^, having in 
her all imaginable confidence, and with the belief 
that there was nothing unlikely or forbidding, but 
that Elder Kinkade was still to be the same, if not 
more than ever before, the joy of the parish, the 
guests, at a suitable hour, bade them good evening 
with every good wish for their future happiness, that 
could be expressed. 

The first few weeks came and fled away into the 
past with nothing particular said upon any one sub- 
ject. Sophia kneeled in prayer, and accompanied 
her husband to the sanctuary, while he looked upon 
her with unbroken confidence, true love and admira- 
tion. He knew no sorrow, and saw nothing that 


268 


The Starless Crown. 


foreshadowed regret. Aunt Susan had set in order 
one of her favorite rooms for their accommodation, 
and there was nothing left undone to produce quiet 
or comfort, but on the contrary, everything had 
been carefully^ planned to promote their happiness 
and well being. But ere the winter winds had been 
kissed by the spring breezes, one lovely Sabbath 
morning, Sophia arose and with a slight tint dyed 
upon her cheek said to Sylvester, with an unusual 
glow in her eyes: ‘‘I am very sorry indeed, but 
it is ni}^ dut}^ to say to you that I have not been 
so absolutely confirmed as to care to live inside the 
walls of a church all the time. I have never been in 
the habit of attending church every Sabbath, and 
shall not expect to any’ more for having become 
your wife.” 

Sydvester arose and stood deathly pale before her, 
‘‘Were 3’ou not expecting to become a living mem- 
ber of the church militant with me, and a co-worker 
in the service of our heavenly Master.^ Did you not 
tell me you had experienced a change of heart 
he asked. 

“Yes, but you did not quite get my meaning. 
I experienced a change of heart when I agreed with 
you.” 

“Is it possible,” he cried, “did I so misunderstand 
you.^ Oh, no, it cannot be! You are but joking. 
Will you not accompany me to the house of worship 
to-day.^ How can I go without 3^011.^” 

“I ma3' as well tell you to-da3’ as to-morrow, I 
could, but do not wish to go, and so long as I do 
not enjoy going I shall not expect to be drawn into 
it simpl3^ to please another, not even my husband. 
I have ached to tell you this a long time, almost 


Trouble for Syi.vester. 


269 


ever since I first came, but I did hate to. It has 
really been a dread upon my mind, but I knew it 
would have to come. We can be happy all the same, 
if you will allow me the independence I ask, which 
is, to do or not, as I please.” 

Rev. Sylvester Kinkade, with his heart larcerated 
with the keen edge of unremitting misfortune, passed 
out, and to his parents remarked that he should 
prefer to walk to th^ church that morning. 

Why he should prefer to walk and his wife remain 
at home was a question, particularly so, as there 
had been no tomplaint of ill-health. Supposing it 
perfectly correct Aunt Susan looked into Sophia’s 
room to know if she was ill that morning, and the 
reply was enough to convince her that there was 
dissatisfaction at heart from some cause. Not wish- 
ing to become entangled in any unknown wrong. 
Aunt Susan left the room with a report to be 
delivered to Uncle Joe. 

After it had been delivered, with a deep sigh he 
replied, “We must keep back and be careful. By 
a little looking on we can tell, for we know our boy.” 

Not feeling the Sabbath was the day to discuss 
business matters. Rev. S3dvester (as he was more 
frequently called) devoted his entire attention to 
reading sacred works, during the intervals in which 
he was destined to be at home throughout the remain- 
der of the day, leaving Sophia to her own enjoyment, 
which she seemed to be taking with her pen. Very 
early the following morning he arose, apparently in 
deep thought. After breakfast he took Sophia by 
the hand and asked her to return wkh him to their 
room, which she did with an air of dignity. 

After being seated, Sylvester said, “If I have 


270 


The Starless Crown. 


been so mistaken in your representation, it is your 
duty to explain to me in a way that 1 may distinctly 
understand the true sentiment of your mind.” 

To which she added without hesitancy, ‘4 told 
you but yesterday, I assure you I have not been 
converted to Christianity. Neither have I any 
expectations of ever being. I only went to church 
while at Uncle Sammy’s because they all went. I 
took part for fun, and to produce excitement.” 

“Please tell me correctly, what did you wish me 
to understand 3^our change of heart to be.^” 

“Why, I changed it from another to you.” 

“Then }^ou have had a special friend before me?” 

“Certainly, friends.” 

“Such as this is truly heart-rending,” said Sylv^es- 
ter. “I have so dearl}^ loved you, I have in no way 
deceived }^ou. My deformity is visible, no one can 
mistake me ; I had looked upon you as true to me, 
I had set m}’ heart upon you, my very soul was 
sealed to you. I had looked upon you as m}^ friend 
and helpmate, but as I am made to know, I must 
ever go and come from the sanctuary alone. This 
will be sad news to communicate to the church. 
How can I endure it?” said he, and bitterl}^ wept. 

“It will not be necessary" to speak of me unless 
they interfere with my business, and should they, the 
talking I will do. I overheard an old gentleman 
counting largely on what I was going to be to the 
church here, the first da}% but I said to m3’self, 4 t 
will not be, until there has come a change in me.’ 
I am honest in what I sa3L It is just here, I never 
could endure to hear this eternit3' question contin- 
uall3^ discussed. I know I have married 3'Ou, a min- 
ister, and that I am willing 3'Ou shoiild be, and preach 


Sophia Spp:aks Her Mind. 


271 


all you want to, to those who wish to hear you, but 
when with me, I want you to tuck your religion in 
your pocket. Besides, here are things that discom- 
fort me, I do not feel satisfied to remain, I did not 
expect to live in this old-style way. You know, I 
have always been used to living in town, I cannot 
be contented to live off out in the country. It could 
not be expected, where I can see nothing but herds 
of cattle, grain barns, hay stacks, and every other 
thing that belongs to a farm home.” 

“Just look out yonder!” pointing out around to 
either side of the front yard, “There are about live 
acres of ground, bordered with tall poplars, and orna- 
mented with ribbon grass, poppies and peonies. Did 
you ever for one moment suppose such scenery would 
be enjoyable to me.^ ’ That which is rich and beau- 
tiful, I love much the best.” 

“We do have most beautiful flowers, and a great 
variety of them. You could not expect to see flow- 
•ers in winter.” 

“Old fashioned ones, I’m told.” 

Those cruel words ! They could not be compared 
to anything less than the pangs of torture, and beneath 
their sorrowing weight, Rev. Sylvester bowed, wept 
and sought a solitary place for thought, spiritual 
instruction and consolation, to bind up his bro- 
ken heart. After having remained a considerable 
length of time by himself, and having a dread to 
open so sad a subject to his parents, and as his mind 
was more especially directed to Aunt Tabbathy, he 
sought her, and unfolded to her the burden of his 
heart. While she did not think it advisable to 
reveal to him the indisputable knowledge she had of 
Sophia, she deeply sympathized with him, and advised 


272 


The Starless Crown. 


him as best she knew, one thing of which was, for 
the good of the family, to leave his father’s house, and 
live as retired as was possible for him to do in town, 
if that would be more pleasing to her. After talking 
with Aunt Tabbathy for some time, his spirit bright- 
ened as one with renewed hope, and he returned 
home. But all this was no news. Aunt Tabbathy 
was not surprised. It was no more than she was 
expecting to hear. She had not only had a foretaste 
of Sophia for her own satisfaction, but after she had 
left for Copperville to prepare for her marriage, and 
a second return to Kingumton, in clearing up 
the room she had occupied, found several letters 
written by Aunt Sabrina, which betrayed the depth 
of her dissimulation. Sylvester was so well under- 
stood by his parents that they saw something was 
not exactly right. They could not mistake it, and 
not being willing to have the matter hidden, took 
the privilege of enquiring into it. Sylvester did not 
think it best to give a full statement, but told them 
she was not happy in her new country home ; that 
farm scenes were not pleasing to her, and that it was 
her wish to reside in town. He told them he had 
called on Aunt Tabbathy, and they had talked the 
matter over, and it was her opinion that he had bet- 
ter procure rooms in town, and gratify her with a 
village home. 

Aunt Susan could not hide the tears that gathered 
in her eyes, “My dear child,” she exclaimed, “this 
is a hard beginning, but it may be the best way for 
you to move off by yourself. You will not be so 
far off but that you can come home awhile every day. 
It is plain enough to see she is not satisfied somehow, 
for when she parades through the house, and around 


Moving Into Town. 373 

where the work is being done, a body would think 
she was lord of the soil, and^law ! if I know how to 
stand her.” 

It took no particular length of time, on the part 
of the parents, to decide that a change should soon 
be made without consulting Sophia as to what street 
or which location would be the most pleasing to her. 
Indeed, it was but shortly after when they selected 
according to their own judgment, which was agree- 
able to that of Uncle Sammy and Aunt Tabbathy, 
a neat cottage but a few doors from the church, and 
ere Sophia was aware she was invited to gather up 
her movables and accept a transfer to a more desira- 
ble home. This produced on the part of Sophia 
quite a set-back. She had presumed to hold power, 
and had considered herself one to be looked up to, 
even by her husband. 

‘‘I supposed,” she said, ‘That you were going to 
build, Sylvester, and we were to have a home of 
our own to beautify and arrange to suit ourselves.” 

“I do not purpose to do any thing of the kind ; I 
have no means with which to buy or build. My 
home is to be wherever the Lord calls me to go,” 
was his reply. 

“Yes, but aren’t you to have a share in all this 
vast estate, and have your portion, since you are 
married, in your own hand, so you are sure of it, 
and have property secured to me.^” 

“My parents have educated me, and I am under 
obligation to them for that. I shall expect to leave 
the property question to them, exclusively.” 

The conversation between Sophia and her husband 
was listened to, unknown to her, and immediately 
after discussed between Sylvester and his parents. 

18 


374 


The Starless Crown. 


It was believed the property had been her only object 
in becoming Mrs. Kinkade, and for the reason that 
she had made an unfavorable beginning she would 
stand but a poor chance to ever command any por- 
tion of it. 

‘‘Though m}^ lot may be hard and uncomfortable,” 
said Sylvester, “since she is my wife, it is my dut}^ 
to be kind and tender with her, and move along as 
smoothl}' as is possible for me. She may feel much 
happier when we once get settled by ourselves ; at 
all events, I shall try to do m3’ part, and what I hope 
is, that it ma}’ be well done.” 

The whole matter was settled ere the conversa- 
tion ended, and at an earl}’ hour of the da}’ appointed 
for the move, it was made. It greatly disturbed 
Sophia’s peace to think whatever was decided upon 
at Father Kinkade’s was done. She had supposed 
it mere talk to startle her, and rather than lose Syl- 
vester from home, they would gratify her wish in 
whatever she exacted ; on the contrary, she found 
herself disappointed, and destined to live in a small 
house but plainly furnished. The day after their 
removal, as she gazed about with a ruffled spirit, 
she said to Aunt Susan, she could see no reason why 
she should be narrowed down to live the life that 
ministers’ wives commonly do, especially as she had 
married a pocket-piece; to which Aunt Susan made 
no reply, but immediate!}’ after performing such 
duties as she felt pleased to for Sylvester’s sake, 
bade her good da}’. 

It so happened Sylvester was that day obliged to 
look after matters pertaining to the church, conse- 
<[uentl}’ Sophia was, for a while, left entirely to her- 
self, during which time she determined to have a 


Still Unsatisfied. 


275 


talk with Uncle Sammy, which determination she 
immediatel}’ carried into effect. It required but lit- 
tle time to get there, as the distance between the 
houses was but a few steps, and, as she was fortunate 
in finding him at home, with her excitable dispo- 
sition, no time was lost, but she boldly presented her 
expectations, wants and wishes, in a way to be dis- 
tinctly understood. 

She told him she was one of too much aspiration 
to be contented in so humble a home, and if Father 
Kinkade had not pride enough to tastefully furnish 
the house for them, it should be done by the church, 
and it was his duty as a friend and relative to see 
that it was done. Between Sophia and Uncle Sam- 
my there was no conformity of feeling. He, as well 
as Aunt Tabbathy, felt she merited no special favor, 
and they did not feel like putting themselves out of 
the way to accommodate her. She was plainly told . 
if she did well, she should be dealt well with, and if 
not, she would not be. Suspicion led Sophia to 
believe there was an understanding between them 
and Sylvester ; but just how that was, she could not 
distinctly see. One thing was certain, she told them, 
if they were not going to be friends, to befriend her 
in whatever place she needed them, she should not 
long remain in Kingumton. Aunt Tabbathy assured 
her that she had not made a fair beginning for a min- 
ister’s wife. She told her the church expected some- 
thing of her, for which she would receive returns 
with gladness ; also that she had done unwisely in 
showing dissatisfied feelings at Mr. Kinkade’s, and 
renewed to her her own knowledge of the family, 
having known them for a number of years ; that she 
had gotten their displeasure by her actions, when 


276 


The Stareess Crown. 


she could as well have had their good will, and 
esteem. This was talk altogether too plain for 
Sophia, who at once inquired what reason they had 
for being so prejudiced against her. 

Aunt Tabbathy was feeling too deeply grieved to 
smooth or conciliate matters in the least, but in a 
clear unmistakable way, presented to Sophia’s mind 
her understanding of her, and the truth that she did 
not at all acquiesce with her, in her mode of doing. - 
She thought, when a lady was more than willing to 
accept the hand of a gentleman head and neck shorter 
than herself, she should be very careful, ever after, 
how she expressed herself in reference to him ; espe- 
cially when she had done a large part b}^ deceiving 
him, in order to get possession of his affections. 
‘‘Which thing, Sophia, you did ; since then, you have 
been heard to speak slightingly of him, and apologize 
for having made so great a stoop. Such is enough 
to assure any ready mind that there must have been 
a cause for it or you would not so have done.” 

Sophia at once angrily arose and dashed out into 
the street. 

‘ ‘ When she gets Brussels carpet and sofa furniture 
it will have to come from home,” said Uncle Sam 
my, coolly. 

‘ ‘ I can see no reason why she should not hav( 
things from home, if they are as able as she repre 
sents.” 

“I doubt their being very able. In my opinion 
a good deal too much goes in tinery.” 

After the lapse of a few days, the report was cur 
rent that Elder Kinkade was expecting to resign, fo 
the reason that the church was not willing to giv 
him a comfortable support. When notice was take 


Leaving Kingumton. 


277 


of it by the church, it was found to be Mrs. Kinkadc, 
and that she would not consent to remain unless her 
wishes could be granted her. After much had been 
said in regard to the propriety of furnishing rooms 
at a heavy expense, it was left for Elder Kinkade 
to try to reconcile her mind to remain for what they 
could consistently do, and do the best they could. 
He assured them that he would strive for them, as 
for himself, and he considered it desirable to make 
a satisfactory effort to remain. He told them 
they were the people of his choice, that with them 
had been his home since his earliest recollections ; 
for him to leave them, and his kindred relatives, 
would almost break his heart, unless he could see the 
hand of God in it, and knew the Lord had need of 
him elsewhere. This kind sentiment as expressed 
by Elder Kinkade was very encouraging to his peo- 
ple and they were sure they were not to lose him. 
They had not yet learned Mrs. Kinkade. They 
could not think of her as altogether unreasonable 
having formed a high and exalted opinion of her. 

But in this they were deceived, and strange as it 
appeared, Elder Kinkade was obliged to sa}’ to them 
soon after that words were unavailing. That his 
wife’s decision was made, and there was but the 
two ways, he must either leave or be left. 

Sophia’s unyielding disposition produced the most 
poignant sensation and she was looked upon with 
numberless regrets for having come among them. 
The heart of every member of the church and soci- 
ety bled under the weight of their misfortune. And 
with Uncle Joe and Aunt Susan it produced an 
almost indescribable suffering. It is not for us to say 
what course they may have pursued, as the}' were 


278 


The Starless Crown. 


strongly tempted, if money would hold Sophia that 
she should be held, rather than not have Sylvester 
near them, had it not been for Aunt Tabbathy’s 
timely interference. She had for instruction ad- 
dresskl a letter to Saul, relating Sophia’s unwise 
doings, and in due time had received his reply, which 
she communicated to them, also to the leading mem- 
bers of the church. He had advised Aunt Tab- 
bathy not to allow the church to conform to that 
which was not reasonable, simply to please Sophia, 
for if they did in one thing, they would soon have it 
to do in another — that her greatest fault was her 
want of principle. The more a person was willing to 
do for her, the more she would exact. That she had 
naturally an extravagant taste and one that was 
rarel}’ ever satisfied, and expressed his regret for 
her having married one whom she could not appre- 
ciate. 

When Aunt Susan had listened to the report, she 
said, “If that is so then, there is no use trying, 
Sylvester has braved a monstrous sight, and after 
getting all ready to do well, I lay if he isn’t at last 
swallowed up.” 

Sophia’s deportment was remarkable at this point 
in the history of events. The deeper the sorrow 
she could inflict, and the more regrets she could 
listen to the happier she felt, more especially so for 
the reason she had failed in accomplishing her object. 
Her stubborn disposition had not caused Father 
Kinkade to relax his tension and deed to Sylvester 
his allotted one hundred acres to secure their stay. 
The day they were to leave Kingumton for a new 
parish, a distance of but few miles, she remarked to 
a lady that she was almost sorry she had overturned 


A New Parish. 


279 


things. Said she had expected property would be 
deeded to them, and that they were to have a nice 
new house, well furnished, and that it would be 
secured to her. “Had they done so,” she continued, 
‘‘this turn would not have been taken, for I should 
have felt at home and well satisfied, but I guess 
there is no moving those old people; they are as 
stubborn as mules.” 

No doubt there was in Sophia’s heart a feeling of 
regret at leaving Kingumton. If not just at that 
time there certainly was soon after, for with her 
haughty spirit it could not well have been otherwise, 
when she found herself destined to live in a house 
much less in size, and more inferior than the one she 
was leaving; also a poor church edifice and limited 
salary to what the people of Kingumton were will- 
ing to give. While there were those in the church 
who were rich in faith, co-workers with their heav- 
enly Master, they were financially poor. But this 
was in no way detrimental to the mind of Elder Syl- 
vester. He was perfectly contented to settle and 
remain with them, trusting that though it was but a 
small branch, it might become a great and powerful 
one. His efforts being founded upon Christian faith, 
he had all confidence for a time to believe he should 
see that portion of God’s heritage bud and blossom 
as the rose. 

He took great pains to court Sophia’s favor and 
reasoned kindly with her, urging her to, at least in 
some degree, associate herself with him, as much so 
as to accompany him, if at no other time, on the 
Lord’s day. He told her he did not wish to have 
his people made acquainted with the differences 
between them in a spiritual sense. He tried to assure 


28o 


The Starless Crown. 


her it would be for her good, as well as for the pros- 
perity of Zion to be yielding, even if she had no 
heart to enjoy, and please him in those things most 
dear and sacred to him, and in what he believed to 
be above all things most essential. 

With a sneer she replied, ‘‘that she was capable 
of judging for herself.” 

Shortly after they had become permanently set- 
tled, and as had been remarked hopefully so, an old 
lady called to know “if Mrs. Kinkade was from the 
owld country.” 

“I from the old country! From where did you 
get such as that.^ ” 

“Shure and they ’ve towld me.” 

“What is it that you wish to know about it.^” 

“Faith, but to know if youVe a Catholic like 
meself.” 

“I a Roman Catholic.^ Who dared tell such a 
falsehood as that on me.^” — during which time she 
raised her voice to so high a pitch as to be distinctly 
understood next door, and falling into a freak of 
desperation, she called, “Sylvester!’' with all the 
strength of her lungs. 

“What.^ What.^” he exclaimed as he hastened 
toward her, “Tell me quickl}’, what is it.^” 

“Why! why!’' sobbed Sophia, “s-h-eshe,” — point- 
ing to the old lady, wlio had reached the doorway, 
and stood looking back, half terrified. 

Turning to the old lad^q said Sylvester mildly, 
“Please tell me what did happen.” Meanwhile 
Sophia sunk down upon a chair and leaned her head 
upon her husband’s shoulder. 

“Faith, sir, and I but asked if she was from the 
owld country, and a Catholic like meself.” 


Another Failure. 


281 

Rev. Sylvester asserted that his wife was no 
conformer to any ceremonial observance, mean- 
time biting deeply his lips with his teeth. 

With a bewildered look the old lady immediately 
left, after which, said Sylvester, ‘‘you see your influ- 
ence, — people will talk; what she said was without 
doubt, truth, and I presume she was happy with the 
hope of finding you one of her own creed.” 

This so maddened Sophia that she blazed it about 
in so severe a way for a minister’s wife that the sis- 
ters of the church thought it advisable that they 
should labor with her. It would indeed be difficu lt 
to relate the particulars of a circumstance of this 
kind. 

The good ladies had no sooner assembled and 
made known their mission of love, than the sparks 
began to fly, and the more the well meaning sisters 
tried to labor, the higher the flames run. 

The effort was a poor one. They were soon im- 
pressed to believe, and shortly after confessed to Rev. 
Sylvester their regret for having made the attempt, 
also acknowledged to him, that the report had been 
current, that he had been greatly deceived by his 
wife, and had unknowingly married one of Catholic 
faith. While all connected with the parish were 
pleased with Rev. Sylvester Kinkade, as a pastor, 
and looked upon him with marked feeling of sympa- 
thy and respect, it was definitely understood that his 
usefulness was at an end in consequence of his wife, 
to whom they had formed man}' dislikes. So sad and 
unfortunate was his lot that in less than three months 
from the time he accepted the pastorate, he preached 
his farewell sermon. 

“Where will you go next.^” asked Sophia, after 


282 


The Starless Crown. 


a little hesitation ; and having been decidedly better 
prepared for the question than she was aware, said : 
‘‘You might return to your mother.” 

“Where would 3^ou go?” 

“The Lord will provide me with a place.” 

“Wouldn’t you go with me?” 

“Were I to, some one might see me.” 

“And hear }'Ou too; it is better for some to be 
heard than seen.” 

Those words as they fell from her lips, struck his 
heart like a thorn ; the teardrops sparkled in his 
eyes ; the expression of his countenance changed and 
had he surrendered to his feelings, he would have 
said, “ Words are too heavy for me.” 

But they were in no position to remain inactive. 
The^^ were obliged to form some definite conclu- 
sion. He therefore kindl}^ insisted that she should 
return home to her mother, until he could again 
become, he knew not whei'e or how soon, perma- 
nently settled. Sophia was not too blind to see there 
had sprung up in the mind of her husband, some- 
thing unharmonious in its nature. She believed it, 
and with an air of indignation, arranged herself for 
a speed}^ departure, leaving her husband with the 
care of all household arrangements. 

When peace and comfort marks the way 
The hourly toil seems light and gay. 

And thus it was with Rev. Sylvester. When once 
alone, his heart grew lighter, and he could with ease 
and activity gather up their wares, fold, box and 
have them shipped back to Kingumton, the happ}^ 
home of his bo^’hood. 

On reaching Kingumton, he felt more than at any 
time before, the weight of his misfortune. The sun 


Among Friends. 


283 


had sunken beneath the horizon; the fleecy clouds 
obstructed the serene light of the pale moon ; but 
few stars shone in the azure blue, when the strong 
pang of dismay was keenl}^ realized. A feeling of 
lethargy stole over him, and he sunk down beneath 
his burden of sorrow, and silently said to himself: 

“ I hate to meet the gaze of men 
But weep where none can see.” 

When suddenly his feelings changed and he ex- 
claimed aloud, “Angel of mercy sent to bring.” A 
hand had gently fallen upon his shoulder, and a voice 
that he quickly recognized spoke, saying, “ I am 
so glad to see you. I caught sight of you before you 
left the train. Go home with me to-night.” 

“Yes, Aunt Tabbathy, I will go ; you are the very 
one I wished flrst to see. I have a greater burden 
to unload now than at any previous time. My pock- 
ets as well as my heart are full.” 

“We are in sympathy with you, brother,” and 
after reaching home it was soon understood by the 
family that there was to be a discussion upon some 
subject that belonged principally to the leading mem- 
bers. 

Rev. Sylvester related the particulars of his over- 
throw at Brighton Center, to Uncle Sammy and 
Aunt Tabbathy, after which he presented the letters 
he had picked up, written by Mother Brown. 

Aunt Tabbathy read aloud, and after reading, 
assured him that they corresponded with those writ- 
ten prior to their marriage. Whilst we will not 
attempt to copy the entire letters, we cannot fail 
to give an idea of their contents. 

Aunt Sabrina had tried to comfort Sophia. She 


284 


The Starless Crown. 


said, “I don’t think you need, after all, to feel so 
’shamed of Sylvester. There ’s lots of short men in 
the world ; after a while, when he grows older, he 
ma}^ kind a spread out like, and if he should he will 
look a good deal more manlike. But it ’s just as you 
vSa}^, you should be rewarded for bein’ wife to sich a 
man. I once heard tell of a man who paid his wife 
$20,000 just because he had a strange deformity. 
Then here’s Dave Wheeler, he gave to his wife 
$10,000 only because he was middlin’ old. I think it 
would be no more than right for Sylvester’s father 
to deed that one hundred acres to you, so you would 
be sure of your part. Then live right there where 
ever3'body knows him and as you say the}’ all seem 
to like him. There is no use grievin’. It ’s best to 
try to be hopeful and happy. There’ll come a 
turnin’ pint after awhile. You know the sayin’ is 
true, the young may die, but the old must. So 
there’ll come a time bimeby that you can have 
somethin’ to call your own to give us, if you can’t 
right away. Any way that is as I think, for I keep 
dreamin’ all the while of light and brightness, it ’s 
the same as good luck and happiness.” 

The foregoing is a sufficient portion of the writ- 
ten matter to know the tenor of Aunt Sabrina’s 
mind, as well as that of Sophia’s. ‘‘I could not 
have believed,” said Sylvester, “when Sophia care- 
fully placed the written page upon a page in the 
Bible and gave me to read her in this room, and in 
the presence of others, that her heart was far from 
me.” 

“It has ever been a question in my mind,” said 
Aunt Tabbathy, “how your acquaintance became 
so extended.” 


Talking Over the Past. 


385 


Sylvester clasped his hands firmly, and with a 
strong expression of earnestness, said ‘'From my very 
soul, I looked upon her with admiration. I reasoned 
it in my mind, that if her heart was as pure as the 
vestment that surrounded it, I loved her. She 
seemed to understand my heart. She read its 
imprinted column, and while I was feeling no liberty 
whatever to approach her, she, holding the Bible in 
one hand, drew near 10 me, opened to a page 
whereon lay one written with her own hand. I read 
it with delight and surprise. If those were her sen- 
timents, they were mine. I returned a reply in the 
same manner. It was in this way that our friend- 
ship was introduced, and unobservedly carried on 
until our hearts’ love became too exuberant to 
remain longer a secret.” 

“ Then we are now to understand that which we 
had supposed would long remain a mystery.” 

“I am indeed sorry it should not. I greatly fear 
its influence should it come before the public. You 
know we are told that ‘Dead flies cause the oint- 
ment of the apothecary to send forth a stinking 
savor, so doth a little folly him that is in reputation 
for wisdom and honor.’ When I came as an 
instructor, to teach Bible lessons, I should not have 
carried my love card. It was not my intention, but 
was overtaken in it. I deeply regret that I did not 
have the wisdom I should have had, and at the com- 
mencement appointed a suitable time for our love 
matters. It would have been much more becom- 
ing.” 

“I can’t see,” said Uncle Sammy, “any particular 
wrong in it, according to the adage, all is well that 
ends well, but I am a good deal afraid it will end in 


386 


The Starless Crown. 


a divorce suit. Divorced men and women are as 
plenty these days as clover blossoms in the month 
of June.” 

“Almighty God forbid!” exclaimed Sylvester. 
I could better bear any other thing. Should such 
ever be, it will be done on her part, not mine. I 
think, in all probability, she will accept her mother’s 
advice as is given on those pages, and live with me, 
hopefully looking forward to the time when she shall 
have received the portion for which she married. 
It is veiy truA calculated to imbitter my life, and 
spoil my temporal happiness, and there may be 
times when I shall feel sunken much as I did this 
evening. I felt for a few minutes a desire to be hid- 
den from the face of men. I reproach myself for 
having surrendered to my feelings to so great a 
degree. I know not how long they may have 
remained with me, had it not been just at that 
moment I felt the touch of your gentle, loving hand 
upon my shoulder.” 

“I am so thankful that I was there to be a com- 
fort to you, I know not how to express my grati- 
tude,” said Aunt Tabbatly, “it was almost a miracle 
that I happened at the depot this evening. But 
there is this one thing sure, there is an unseen hand 
ever near, and will give the victory to those that are 
his, who have been blindl}* led into captivity.” 

“That is ever so true, Aunt Tabbathy. The 
Psalmist says, ‘They that trust in the Lord shall be 
as Mount Zion, which cannot be removed, but abid- 
eth forever.’ ‘As the mountains are round about 
Jerusalem, so the Lord is round about his people 
from henceforth even for ever.’ ” 


Father and Mother. 


287 


CHAPTER XXIX. 


‘^Law! Joe, Til not sleep one wink to-night. I 
should have thought when he got off the cars, that 
he would have come right straight home. I do won- 
der now if they were sure it was him.” 

‘‘Oh, yes; the boys said it was Sylvester, but it 
being middling dark they lost sight of him.” 

‘ ‘ I am thinking, may be he has gone to Tabbathy ’s, 
and we may well know there is something more 
that’s not quite right if he has.” 

If he is not here ’gin nine o’clock, I think I best 
throw on the gears and we’ll ride over.” 

“I think that way myself, Joe,” and at precisely 
nine o’clock Uncle Joe and Aunt Susan started on 
their drive for Kingumton. When the rolling of 
wheels and prancing of horses was heard nearing the 
porch at Uncle Samm3Fs the door was hurriedl}^ 
opened with joyful exclamations. 

“The room is never full until after father and 
mother are in,” said Sylvester. 

“I thought in all probabilities the bo3's from the 
east farm caught sight of him, and would be likel3^ 
to mention it to 3'Ou, in which case, if he was not 
home in due time, 3'ou would be in quest of him,” 
said AuntTabbathy. 

“ Susan thought she couldn’t sleep and I felt a good 
deal that way myself, so I just hitched on and we 
drove over, but I’m glad we find him all right,” 
continued Uncle Joe. 

“ But I think we have n’t yet had time to 


288 


The Starless Crown. 


know all about that,” said Aunt Susan. ‘‘I have so 
many times told Joe, there is not much telling about 
Sylvester, forj^lassf! he will hunt a verse somewheres 
out of the Bible to comfort him, let come what 
will.” 

“ That is so, truthfully. Aunt Susan; he was just 
repeating from the Psalms as I heard you driving up 
to the porch.” 

‘‘Well, you have then just come up on a visit 

“I have just moved up, mother.” 

“Just moved up! I want to know! . That then is 
about as I expected, I believe we should find some- 
thing at the bottom. And now Sylvester, you 
must tell us all about it.” 

“Why, my wife still continues to indorse the 
same principles as you have heretofore known. 
She has shown considerable regard for my feel- 
ings, but of course there cannot be that unit}^ 
between us that is necessary to promote happiness 
as long as godliness is so distasteful to her. She 
cannot bear the slightest hint of religion. It will 
excite her to anger in one moment. She has an 
extreme passion for gayety and grandeur. Could I 
but satisfy her in those things, perhaps she would 
feel much better contented. She seems to think 
that I can preach Christ, faith and repentance and 
she, meantime, cast her influence according to her 
belief and practice, which is in no way harmonious 
with my teachings. I tell her such can only be 
compared to one knitting, and the other raveling 
out. I do not know, but in some way it became 
rumored that she was of Catholic faith,” and he 
proceeded to relate the circumstance which resulted 
in his final overthrow. 


More Consultation. 


289 


“I thought it advisable to have her return to her 
parents, and I would have the goods shipped back 
to Kingumton to await some new turn.” Sylvester 
continued by saying, “I presume had I a handsome 
property she would feel satisfied, looking upon my 
ministry as an honorable profession ; that is she 
would not so much regret it could she be partitioned 
off on one side. But my dear friends, behind the 
partition would she be petitioned for, ever and anon, 
and that she could not forbid me. I may not live 
to see the day, but my request is, that it may come, 
when she will see with discerning eyes, and confess 
to God with unfeigned lips.” 

“I am hopeful,” said Aunt Tabbathy, “for we 
are told that, ‘the supplication of a righteous man 
availeth much.’” 

if I could only know she would be con- 
tented and satisfied to live with Sylvester, and make 
him happy, now since she has got him, by having a 
home of their own, I should want them to have it.” 

“Yes, I should be willing to that myself, Susan, 
we could square it right off to them, and it may 
be the better way.” 

“No! no!” exclaimed Uncle Sammy, swiftly. 
Aunt Tabbathy joining with him, “If she can not 
appreciate Sylvester well enough to treat him respect- 
full}^ without your property, she would not with it. 
She would feel none the better satisfied were you to 
deed a farm to him. It would have to be in her 
name, I am aware of that fact, and the way. she 
would handle it would not be as you have ever 
done. We advise that you keep the loaf under 
your own arm.” 

“I believe that the better way,” said Sylvester. 


19 


290 


The Starless Crown. 


“We cannot tell. There may come a time when I 
shall need your assistance more than at present.” 

The conversation continued until a late hour, 
when Uncle Joe and Aunt Susan returned home, 
leaving Sylvester to walk over early the next morn- 
ing. Aunt Tabbath}’ had a few choice ideas to 
impart, which were reserved until she could have 
the privilege of impressing Sylvester’s mind with 
them when undisturbed by others. This she did 
after his parents left, and as she was a woman of 
strong mind and good judgment, one in whom Syl- 
vester placed the utmost confidence, her purposes 
were very readily indorsed. It so happened that 
there was an empty pulpit about ten miles from 
Kingumton, in a pleasant part of a country town, 
thickly settled with clever, well-to-do farmers, and 
where Aunt Tabbathy had any amount of generous 
friends, a few of whom were her kindred. 

Through her influence an appointment was made, 
and on the second Sabbath after his return from 
Brighton Center he preached a rousing sermon in 
the old country church. The aged patriarchs 
laughed as they shook the hand of the little man 
with great warmth and approbation. The sermon 
had suited them to a letter, and to them it was 
wonderful that one so small could hold so much. 

“ You seem to have more of the oil of fatness than 
myself,” said one whose weight was a trifle over 
three hundred. ‘U should like to have you stay 
along with us. I want to see and hear you some 
more.” 

The requests were so man}^ and urgently pressed 
that Sylvester determined to remain among them for 
a few days ; during which time he preached for them. 


The Burkshire Church. 


291 


mingled with them in their evening prayer meetings, 
attended their social societies and lastly was one with 
them at their yearl}'^ Sabbath-school . picnic. The 
attachment became so fervent on the part of both 
Rev. Sylvester and the people of the parish, that 
without the other, each felt they were afflicted. On 
meeting with Aunt Tabbath}^, immediately after his 
return to Kingumton, he said: ‘‘ How can I refuse 
a people whose hearts are so strongly inclined to me, 
and for whom I have the most tender regard.^ Our 
attachment seems as firm as though it had resulted 
from the growth of years.” 

“Your duty is where the Lord places you,” said 
Aunt Tabbathy. 

“I believe that, but what would my wife say to a 
countr}^ home.^ I should dread the first introduc- 
tion of it.” 

“I can see no reason why she should refuse so 
pleasant a home as the parsonage at Burkshire. It 
is a lovely site, and so near the church, good build- 
ings in handsome repair, with every convenience that 
anyone could desire. It should be considered far 
preferable to a village home, where everyone under- 
stands his neighbor’s business, and loses no time tell- 
ing it.” 

“Whilst it would please my heart to accept the 
charge of the Burkshire church, and know not how 
I can say no, to them, if she should not consent what 
would I do.^” 

“ If she ‘cannot be consistently wise, I think it 
would be wisdom with her inconsistency to throw 
her away,” said Aunt Tabbathy with an excited 
air,” 

“ I could not throw her away. I feel it my duty to 


292 


The Star HESS Crown. 


strive for her, to try to please her, win her if possible 
by being lovingly kind to her, that I may have a 
conscience void of offense. When I look back, as I 
must sometimes with regret, and reconsider the way 
in which I allowed beauty to charm me and was led 
by feigned lips, I feel to reproach myself. Then 
again I look at it, by the light of God’s love and feel 
that had it not been for my good, perhaps her’s. 
He would not have suffered it to be. Thus dwell- 
ing upon it, I see in it a purpose, which is, that I 
must needs daily walk in the spirit, that I may with- 
out contradiction be as a lamp in a dark place, by 
which she, as may many others, see the light, and 
turn ‘ before He cause darkness, and before their feet 
stumble upon the dark mountains.’ There is also 
this truth, which should encourage every worker in 
religious fields, — the work of grace, as it is written, 
Met him know that he which converteth a sinner 
from the error of his way shall save a soul from 
death, and shall cover a multitude of sins.’ ” 

The last sentence had no sooner fallen from the 
lips of S3'lvester than Aunt Tabbath}^ was inter- 
rupted by Uncle Samrn}^ who had entered with a 
letter addressed to her from Saul. AVhen she had 
broken the seal, and hastil}’ glanced over the pages, 
it was readily seen that her feelings were agitated, 
and the frown which settled upon her brow was an 
index of vexation. The exhibition of troublesome 
thought was such that neither Uncle Sammy or 
Sylvester dared to utter a word and for some 
minutes silence held a triumphant reign. Aunt Tab- 
bathy had deposited the sheet back into the envelope 
and snugly folding her arms, sat looking steadfastly 
downward, as much so as though she was trying to 


Call to Burkshire. 


293 

Study out the language of some flower woven in the 
carpet. 

“ Hurrah,” shouted Thaddie at this moment as he 
came in sight of Rev. Sylvester. ‘^Are you going to 
live in Burkshire.^ If you do I ’ll have to go there too. 
They ’re real rich. Up there is lots of milk and 
honey.” 

Guy,* who had happened at the doorway, was 
much amused at Thaddie’s remark, and at once set- 
ting his hat on the back part of his head, hitching 
his thumbs in the armholes of his vest, advanced 
zig-zag near to where Sylvester was sitting. Then 
with a sudden stop he folded his hands, palm to 
palm, and assuming a deaconish look, said “Yes sir, 
and so will I; you will need occasionally to have me 
take your wife on a drive to Uncle Jason’s by the 
way of Barefoot Glen.” 

Guy was a good-hearted, well meaning boy, but a 
regular rattle-head. He could not forget his first 
ride with Sophia, and ever after spoke of it as hav- 
ing merited a professorship. 

“It would indeed make a very suitable place for 
Rev. Sylvester,” said Aunt Tabbathy. 

“I am impatiently waiting,” said Uncle Sammy, 
“to know something of the substance of that letter. 
It seems to contain matter of moment.” 

Relaxing her folded arms and raising one hand to 
her head, she replied, “I feel like one lost in the dark 
mine of insensibility. I cannot think of a more 
accurate way to express myself,” and willingly 
handed the letter over to her husband. 

After having read it, and considering earnestly 
for a little time, said he, “ I was just going to say 
that we need the wisdom of Solomon, but I guess I 


The Starless Crown. 


294 

had better say the wisdom of the Almighty. Tab- 
bathy, I can see no better way than to have Sylves- 
ter made acquainted with these statements, and we 
will try to help him as best we can. Here are facts, 
such as he will have to know, and those not so abso- 
lutely necessary he should, he may as well hear.” 

At the sound of which Sylvester arose to his feet, 
the pale tint upon his cheeks changed to a deep 
crimson, saying, “What is it.^” 

“Sit down, brother,” said Aunt Tabbathy, “and 
let us reason together. Have you heard from 
Sophia since she left you.^” 

“ Once, she penned but a short letter, told me she 
had a pleasant car ride, was very well and wished 
me to send her some money.” 

“ Whilst we. do have for you, as you know, the 
deepest feeling of sympathy and respect, and would 
not report one word to wound your feelings, neither 
would Saul communicate to us otherwise than for the 
best, but as things are being conducted at Uncle 
Jeremiah’s, he thought it advisable to have us know 
and we think it right that you should, that you may 
calculate accordingl}^ He ssLys she often speaks of 
her husband’s heirship, and offers it as an apology 
for having become Mrs. Kinkade. He tells us she 
has been making large purchases, but he does not 
know the full amount of bills. The new chair 
placed in the parlor for Uncle Jeremiah is said to be 
worth forty dollars, and he should think it not le s. 
Aunt Sabrina has a rich new silk and her brothers a 
velocipede, besides parlor ornaments and other 
things, all of which she is expecting her husband to 
settle for.” 

Sylvester again arose, wringing his hands, saying, 


Laying Plans. 


295 


‘‘What shall I do.^ How am I to settle them.^ 
Our expenses have run far beyond our income, and 
my people have had to support us mostly, as she 
knows. Should I ask my people to supply me with 
means to pay for comforts for her’s, such as they 
have not afforded for themselves.^” 

“No! No! 3^ou will not! Now hear. Don’t let 
this excite you too much. We will carefulN look 
this matter over for a moment. ‘Where there is a 
will there is a way,”’ and after a little considering 
Uncle Sammy said, “I think I see it already. First 
go and accept the charge of the church at Burkshire ; 
make sure of that. Have 3^our goods all taken to 
the parsonage. Make everything as nearly ready as 
you can. Then go to Copperville with just money 
enough to pay your expenses both ways. 'Make no 
mention of anything having been communicated. 
When bills are presented just say to those who do, 
that you are not prepared to meet them. That 
since your wife has contracted such debts, 3^ou feel 
it your duty to pay and as soon as possible will. 
Then try and save it out of your yearly compen- 
sation.” 

Sylvester, after attentively listening, clasped 
together firmly his hands, saying, “I thank you. 
You have helped open up a wa^^ through which I 
can see. I have great reason to bless God that there 
is a pulpit ready for me and that the church is able 
and willing to do well by me. I think I can save up 
enough in one year to cover the indebtedness and 
bring no reproach upon my wife. Under the cir- 
cumstances, I must accept the chance at hand, and 
I think she will consider me excusable if she is not 
consulted in the matter.” 


296 


The Starless Crown. 


It was Aunt Tabbathy’s opinion that he should 
immediately return home to prepare for the com- 
ing Sabbath, and if permitted they would drive 
that way and carry him over to Burkshire on Satur- 
da}^ to remain there until every necessar}^ transaction 
was completed. Which plan was adopted and car- 
ried into execution. So that in less than one week 
from the day Saul’s letter was received Rev. Sylves- 
ter Kinkade was elected pastor of the old country 
church, with an extra endowment of fifty dollars 
given him in advance of his yearly recompense. 


Still no Rest. 


297 


CHAPTER XXX. 


Friendship, when not riveted with hypocrisy, nor 
accompanied with those dusky libers with which 
it is so frequently webbed, is conjugal, and is based 
upon concordant harmony and mutual esteem. 
Humanity was with Uncle Sammy a predominant 
characteristic, therefore he was well calculated to 
co-operate with Aunt Tabbathy in her effort to pro- 
mote the well being of Sylvester. There was no 
time lost after their return from the old country par- 
ish, in ciphering out the probabilities connected with 
their last issue, and a hasty preparation to meet the 
emergency of whatever name or kind. A letter was 
addressed to Saul relating Sylvester’s fortunate 
acceptance as pastor in Burkshire township, also a 
request that he should be, if possible, at the depot at 
the time specified to meet him, unknown to any 
other, not even Sophia, in order to defeat the plan 
as had been deHsed by the low grades of Copper- 
yille, who were expecting to form a sporting club 
the day of his arrival and sketch his outline by the 
side of Sophia, one for whom they had but an insignif- 
icant regard. They had considered it an object of 
moment to get possession of a photographic view of 
Sophia b}' the side of her puny husband, as they 
termed him. 

As Aunt Tabbathy was accompanying Sylvester 
to the depot the evening he was to take the train for 
Copperville, he said to her, ‘‘In the midst of all 


298 


The Starless Crown. 


these afflicting strokes that come upon me — and we 
cannot tell how humiliating some of them may be, 
that I shall yet meet — I have a hope that is ‘an 
anchor of the soul, a hope both sure and steadfast, 
and entering into that which is within the veil,’ for 
beyond this lower sphere, this sorrowing world, 
where I shall be no more a subject of curiosity. I 
was thinking to-day as I was contemplating my 
prospects in Copperville that I could say with the 
poet: 

“‘I yearn for realms where fancy shall be filled, and the ecstasies of freedom 

shall be felt, 

And the soul reign gloriouslj'', risen to its royal destinies.’ ” 

Aunt Tabbathy was too deeply affected to reply 
on the public street, but simply said, “ Don’t fail to 
write as soon as is possible for you, after your 
arrival in Copperville.” 

With his heart exceedingl}^ solemnized he went 
aboard the train, and devoted himself to the study 
of text searching, noting important ideas and arrang- 
ing his mind, that in case he was asked to fill the 
pulpit that he might speak to edification. The fol- 
lowing day he was safely in Copperville, where he 
found Saul awaiting his arrival. 

Saul thought it advisable to first take him to his 
offlee, where they could alone spend some time talk- 
ing over those things which he was to meet most 
assuredly. It was time profitably spent, after 
which Saul accompanied him to the house, to meet 
those to whom his arrival was so unlooked for, that 
it produced no small degree of surprise. To speak 
from appearance his reception was rather pleasing. 
And in time to go out on the first mail he had ready 
for Aunt Tabbathy a short note, which read: 


Rev. Kinkade in Copperville. 299 

I have had no presentiment of any thing particularly 
unfavorable to this date. I am inclined to feel encouraged, 
as Mother Brown has introduced me to her friends as her 
son-in-law, the minister, Mr. Kinkade. I have been solicited 
to speak on next Lord’s day. 

Adieu till we meet, 

Sylvester. 

He fortunately having been made aequainted with 
his financial position to some degree, unknown to 
the family, it was no difficult matter for him to 
decipher the looks and appearance of Mother Brown 
and Sophia, also their often-repeated remarks, 
which he believed were made to produce from him 
an interrogation that would lead to an open consul- 
tation. Consequently when Sophia pointed to the 
chair saying, ‘Ms not that beautiful.^” he simply 
replied, ‘‘very beautiful.” 

Not having an idea of such a thing as even being 
possible that a pulpit could be in readiness for her 
husband, she was free to cast out her insinuations, 
that there would be no place for them she guessed 
but in Kingumton, and that Father Kinkade would 
be obliged to furnish means for their support. “And 
I will do the handling of it, they will find,” slipped 
out at one time when she thought Sylvester too far 
away to hear her. 

“Yes,” replied Aunt Sabrina, “there’s always 
some way to keep carryin’ things ’long. I guess 
he ’ll have to unstrap his pocket-book, it ’s no ways 
likely Sylvester can hnd a place to preach, he is sich 
a little poodle.” 

To which Sylvester returned a reply, saying, “He 
who has called me to His service, will supply me 
with a pulpit.” It was not his wish to keep his wife 
in darkness, but he was fully aware, were he to name 


300 


The Starless Crown. 


his acceptance as pastor and where, what would 
follow, and he did not wish to have his mind unreason- 
ably disturbed with business matters prior to the 
Sabbath. In consequence of which Saul was exceed- 
ingly careful to claim a good share of his attention. 
When Sabbath morning came, Sophia refused to 
accompany her husband to church. She knew of 
the many remarks that had been made, also, of the 
sporting club, and felt diffident to be seen by the 
side of one so much her inferior, and excused herself 
by complaining of having headache. She walked, 
however, as far as the door with him, and at parting 
said, ‘‘I hope you will win hearts to-day.” To which 
he thanked her and walked on. 

Sophia then returned to the parlor, where she 
comfortably seated herself to read the “Daily 
News,” after which she soon fell asleep, and so con- 
tinued until aroused by her mother who suddenly 
threw open the door with an almost bewildered look 
of surprise. 

Why, my sakes ! ” she exclaimed. “ It does beat 
everything. Sylvester is a smart little man, I jist 
wish you’d been there. That meetin’ house was 
packed full as it could hold, it was surprisin’ to hear 
him. He preached and preached till first I see, they 
was all ’round wipin’ their eyes. Then I turned 
myself ’round this way and that, and I do believe 
everybody was cryin’ in the whole house.” 

“That is exactly why I do not like to hear him. 
He always carries terror on his tongue. He is 
enough to scare some people to death. He thinks 
no one should live in any other way, than as though 
they were standing beside their open grave, and I 
wonder what happiness can be found in living 


Preaching in Coppervilee. 301 

that way. I like to have some fun as I go along and 
I believe the more we laugh, the longer we shall live, 
for fun and liveliness are the life of living. They 
have an enlivening property, they season life and 
preserve it, and I know it. And there are lots of 
ministers who feel that way. They are jolly and 
will joke. You never see them with long faces except 
when they go into the pulpit, and then they have to, 
of course.” 

“Well, I do myself feel most dreadful sorry he 
isn’t a little different, more like yourself. But we 
must be careful about talkin’, 3^011 know he heard 
me yesterday, but I don’t think he did 3’ou.” 

“He will not be here 3^et for awhile, he will hang 
back till the doors are locked, 3^011 ’d better believe.” 

“I was thinkin’ yesterday, that it’s a pity you 
married him.” 

“He has a sweet face, mother, and that placid 
smile is alwa3’s seen on it, with all he is so serious, 
and as I say, carries terror on his tongue.” 

“T don’t see for 013’ part how he makes it work, 
for we do know that happiness and gloominess ain’t 
any alike.” 

‘"He does not think them alike, but he lives expect- 
ing to see a great amount of happiness in the next 
world. He is just like Saul, they both think alike, 
both continuall3^ stud3' to find the safest and surest 
wa3^ to glor3’. I have heard him say, if the different 
lines in life were alike paralleled before him, bearing 
their own separate inscription, ‘The World,’ ‘The 
S3magogue of Satan,’ ‘Morality,’ ‘Christianity,’ and 
he knew that each one was to empty into the same 
eternit3^ of gloiy, he would take the one bearing the 
characteristics of Christ, ‘for in him dwelleth all the 


302 


The Starless Crown. 


fullness of the God-head bodily.’ And that in him 
he has peace, ‘Who is the head of all principality 
and power.’” 

“Then if that is the way he talks, I guess he is 
steadfast.” 

“Yonder they are, they’re coming. I dread 
what will be to-morrow, likely enough.” 

“Ain’t you told him yet about the things.^” 

“No. Whilst I dread it, he will have it to find 
out that I calculate to have a word to say. I did n’t 
marry him for nothing. I tell you, it would make 
you open your eyes were you to get sight of Father 
Kinkade’s grain barns.” 

“I expect so, and it would be a likely story if you 
couldn’t have the privilege of any of it when you ’re 
Sylvester’s wife.” 

“I hardly think he will dare cross me. He knows 
I have my calculations made to strike for our share.” 

By this time all parties were within hearing, and 
the conversation ceased. 

“Are you feeling better.^” asked Sylvester; then 
turning side-wise to Saul, said, “ my wife usually 
feels better in the after-part of the day.” After 
which he was very silent, and spent the remainder 
of the day in his usual way, reading sacred history. 
Very unexpectedly, late in the afternoon, Robbie 
came dashing in, saying, “Soph, I’ve been eaves 
dropping, I ’ve been hearing what they say about 
Sylvester.” 

“Goody, Robbie, what did they say.^” 

Some of them said “he’s head and shoulders 
taller than his wife,” then one said, “he gave us a 
buster to-day,” another one said, “he made slaugh- 
tering work.” 


Sophia’s Extravagance. 


303 


‘‘What did they mean by that.^” 

“Why you see a great lot went to make fun, but 
he knocked it all out of them. There won’t now be 
any clubs, so 3’ou needn’t be afraid any more, nor 
ashamed.” 

It had been previously arranged that at an early 
hour on Monday, Rev Sylvester in company with 
Father Brown was to appear at the law office to 
remain until all bills were presented. 

“I do not know,” said Mr. Brown, “what has 
been taken into the house, be}’ond the. things I have 
seen, but whatever the wrong may be, to make it 
right is what I am willing to do.” 

When the different bills had been presented the 
sum total amounted to the sum of four hundred and 
forty dollars and some cents. 

Mr. Brown appeared perfectly panic-stricken, but 
as soon as he could recover himself, he said, “I will 
go and see what my wife says about these things,” 
and started for the house, followed by Saul and 
Sylvester. 

When the subject was first introduced Aunt 
Sabrina appeared excited, but when Sophia began 
to argue her rightful privilege, she was sustained by 
her mother, and though they reasoned well as could 
be expected by parties void of wisdom and humanity, 
they were, after having been allowed to know the 
extent of their meaning, put to silence by Saul, 
who addressed them with as much force as though 
he was defending a plaintiff at the bar. 

He made expressH" plain to Sophia her duty to 
her husband, also reassured her of his high position 
as a man among men, and his standing as an earnest 
minister of the gospel. Lastly he told her, since 


The Starless Crown. 


304 

she with her mother had been guilty of so great a 
wrong as to throw upon her husband a needless 
embarrassment, at what could be termed the outset 
of his ministry, he would hold himself responsible 
for the debt by taking a mortgage on her father’s 
home. 

At the sound of which Aunt Sabrina raised both 
hands, loudly exclaiming, “Ain’t Sylvester’s father 
able to pay the debt without our havin’ it hangin’ 
on us.^” 

‘‘He will not, — I mean he shall not!” said Saul, 
with emphasis. 

Aunt Sabrina was too full of indignation to remain 
longer in the room, and went dashing back to the 
kitchen with threats, groans and heavy sobs. 
Sophia closely followed with the comforting words, 
“Mother, mother, don’t feel so badl}^ I’ll throw it 
back, that I will.” 

Rev. Sylvester was deeply grieved. He had not 
been used to such troublesome scenes, and turning to 
Saul said, “it would be better perhaps for me to 
stand for the debt, and as soon as I can make it 
possible, pay it.” 

“I cannot suffer it,” replied Saul. “Parties guilty 
of so gross an act should suffer the penalty.” 

As Aunt Sabrina and Sophia would not either of 
them condescend to present the articles of trade 
beyond those things to which their attention had 
been previousl}^ turned, and after all had been said 
that was necessary the gentlemen returned to the 
office to have made complete the remnant of busi- 
ness. 

At midday Sylvester sought an opportunity to 
learn of Sophia if she was ready to return home with 


A Surprise for Mrs. Kinkade. 305 

him, and told her he had taken charge of a church 
and could not be long away. 

‘‘Church! I wonder where.” 

“In Burkshire township.” 

“Where is that.^” 

“It is about ten miles from Kingumton.” 

“Is it in the country.^” 

“It is, but please do not condemn it until you 
shall have seen it. It is a beautiful place. I think 
3^ou cannot be otherwise than pleased. Our goods 
are there and I am desirous of getting quieted down.” 

“I suppose I can go but if I do not like it I won ’t 
stay.” 

“You can act your pleasure about going. It 
shall be your privilege to do whichever way suits 
you the best. But remember, should you prefer to 
remain with 3^our parents, 3'OU are to be in no way 
detrimental to me.” 

“Would you not expect to pay m^^ board .^” 

“Not when under the circumstance of choice 
simply. When you accepted my hand, you also 
did my home. That wherever my lot was cast 
there yours would be. I prefer to take the night 
train, unless it should particularly inconvenience 3^ou, 
in which case I should be willing to wait over a day 
or even two days if a necessit3^” 

“Sophia remained silent for some minutes, then 
called for her mother ‘to whom she in a very com- 
plaining way, said, “I suppose I must pack my 
trunk for the woods. Believe me, our goods are 
there and Sylvester has pronounced the benediction.” 

“Well, we do know its most beggarly mean, sich 
a way of doin’. He sent you home. I didn’t 
expect,” turning to Sylvester, “you was goin’ to 


20 


The Stareess Crown. 


306 

send her here to live on us for nothin’. If she had 
come to visit it would have been another thing, but to 
come to stay I was calculatin’ on a compensation. 
I was expectin’ to apply her board money on these 
debts that has been fussed over. I hold to woman’s 
rights.” 

“Mother Brown, I am sorry to sa}’ it, but it is 
truth, — through the intiuence of my wife I have 
already been twice overthrown. I did advise her to 
return to her mother and supposed you would be 
pleased to have her until I could be again settled. 
Whatever the sum is that you think right from the 
time she came to this date, I will pay, but not here- 
after.” 

Then turning to Sophia he said, “I shall expect 
you to return with me. We will take the 12:30 
train to-night.” He then took his hat and walked 
back to the office. 

Sophia and her mother reasoned for a while, and 
lastly concluded, if Sylvester was not going to be 
man enough to pay his wife’s board, she had better 
return with him. By so doing she could perhaps 
accumulate means to a good advantage, and should 
she have success she was to forward the money to 
her mother through the postoffice. 

With every arrangement neatly planned, she 
became active in making ready, and as had been 
proposed, left on the night train for Kingumton. 

It is hardly possible to suppose that she felt at 
home at Uncle Sammy’s, as she was met with an 
unusual degree of formalit}^ so much so that she 
became impatient “to get to what she could call her 
own,” and on the second day after iheir arrival did. 

As beautiful as was the scenery, and as pleased 


Life in Berkshire. 


307 

and happy as were those of their friends who called 
upon them, each one bringing with them some need- 
ful table supply, her every expression denoted 
dissatisfaction, and as Aunt Tabbathy remarked, 
‘‘there was no knowing what she may have said, 
had it not been that she accidentally parboiled her 
tongue and had to hold it.” 

During Rev. Sylvester’s pastorate of some two 
and a half years in Burkshire could all that was vex- 
ing and sorrowful be told, through which Sophia 
led her husband, that devoted servant of God, if 
written it would indeed be an invidious work, with 
man}^ a dark uncomely page. 

It was no uncommon thing for her to object to morn- 
ing and evening prayer, and in such a way as to 
drive him to a private apartment to worship alone. 
Sometimes she would say to him, “if you want to 
you can pray here, if you won’t go all over the 
Andes.” 

She took great delight in game playing and if at 
an}^ time she could have an associate to engage with 
her, and manage to be overtaken in the act by her 
husband it was very gratifying to her, and there 
was no place so suitable to hide her sporting imple- 
ments as in the study, even to the “accidental drop- 
ping” of the gambling card upon the table, purposely 
to grieve him; all of which he carried to the Throne 
of Grace. 

It did not require any particular length of time 
for the citizens of Burkshire to understand the rul- 
ing sentiment of Sophia’s mind, and while it was 
with sadness they soon learned there could be no 
lovable unity, no growth of harmony, no endearing 
friendship, yet they were glad to bear with her, and 


3o8 


The Starless Crown. 


humor her peculiar disposition for his sake. The 
better the church and society became acquainted 
with Rev. Sylvester, and the more they learned of 
him, the more highly he was prized, and the more 
ardently they became attached to him, for which 
reason they were the more indulgent and painstak- 
ing with Sophia in order to move along smoothly, 
and await ‘‘the interposition of Providence,” as 
would be frequently said. When those veterans of 
the cross became acquainted with some new despic- 
able freak, as they many times did, they would 
sighingly bow their heads and with a lamentable 
tone utter with sadness the old adage that “it’s a 
long lane that has no turn.” 

Among the many whom Sophia was destined to 
meet, and with whom she was obliged to form an 
acquaintanceship, there were none who felt for her 
that tender regard as did her husband. With all 
her imperfections and deeds of injustice, he had for 
her the deepest sympathy, and looked forward in 
faith, believing the time of her restoration would 
come. Few hearts could have braved the upheav- 
ing upon the voyage x)f life equal to that little man 
of God. 

At times when their expenditures were being con- 
sidered, so great was her ambition for worldliness 
and mone}^ wherewith to gratify her extravagant 
passion, and aid her own people, that the handsome 
compensation with which her husband was being 
rewarded for his ministerial services was too far 
beneath her requirements to satisfy her demands 
without an augmentation which was beyond reason. 
It really seemed fortunate and wisely ordered that 
Rev. Sylvester should have been introduced to the 


The Price of Peace. 


309 


people of Burkshire, where the majority were so 
financially able, especially among those of the parish, 
and too, so well calculated to tame one of Sophia’s 
disposition, and in a way so praiseworthy and com- 
mendable, even though it sometimes cost a sacrifice. 

It was very soon observed that a favor or present 
of any kind if only intended expressly for her, was 
very acceptable, and she would evince any amount 
of gratification. Consequently when there was any- 
thing of moment to be conducted or accomplished, 
if it must necessarily extend within the limits of 
the parsonage, it became their habitual practice to 
arrange something to be especially conferred upon 
Sophia, in order to get possession of her sunny side, 
that it might be carried into effect without produc- 
ing an unharmonious sensation, a thing so detrimen- 
tal to Rev. Sylvester. 

It was an unfailing practice for the different relig- 
ious denominations of that vicinity to unitedly 
observe the first day of the year as a day of fasting 
and prayer for the universal spread of the gospel. 

Rev. S3’lvester having been known to have pre- 
viously suffered great embarrassment, on those 
occasions in consequence of his wife’s distaste for 
anything in harmony with Christianity^ it was con- 
sidered advisable by the sisters of the church to 
bring together all that was possible that was pleas- 
ing, from the useful to the beautiful, and on the 
anniversary three y'ears from the day’ of her recep- 
tion as daughter in the family’ of Mr. Kinkade, make 
her happily’ surprised, which they did, with the hope 
that the luster that kindled in her eye on that merry^ 
Christmas day might not soon die, and that their 
effort would produce on the part of Sophia a mutual 


310 


The Starless Crown. 


tendency, that would aid largely in promoting the 
happiness of her husband on the coming fast-da}^ 
They were confident she could not be otherwise than 
in harmony with them after having been made the 
recipient of much that was so enjoyable to her, and 
to which she manifested the highest exhibition of 
delight and appreciation. 

With this to encourage them, they were sure of 
having adopted a wise plan to expel the gloom that 
so universally draped the mind of their beloved pas- 
tor, on every religious occasion, especially if it was 
beyond the ordinary weekly meetings and the}' were, 
as they felt, properly prepared to look forward with 
high hopes and happy anticipations to their annual 
communion with the King of Kings. Everything 
moved off peacefully at the parsonage during the 
week and on New Year’s morning Rev. Sylvester 
and wife were seated at the breakfast table, appar- 
ently well pleased as persons are when in possession 
of health and happiness. It was understood that 
several of the clergymen, they knew not how 
many, would be in to spend an hour after the morn- 
ing service which would continue until two o’clock. 

It so happened that there were items of import- 
ance to be attended to more than usual that morn- 
ing in the kitchen, as well as extra instructions to be 
given the nurse girl, which required considerable 
time ; nevertheless Sophia was equipped in time to 
walk with her husband to the church, which was 
calculated to gladden his heart and encourage him. 
In consequence of the mass of people who had 
assembled in the hall. Rev. Sylvester soon lost sight 
of his wife. 

The parsonage ’was but a few steps from the 


A Fast-day Incident, 


31 1 

church, and during the cold season the door opening 
into the sitting room was the one used as the main 
entrance. At two o’clock Rev. Sylvester with his 
ministerial brethren deliberately walked from the 
church to the house, happy-hearted, and up the steps 
to the door, where they were met by Sophia, who 
opened to them with a smile and courtesy and asked 
them to “please walk in,” which they did; when to 
their astonishment they found themselves confront- 
ing a long table loaded with ever}/ choice luxury 
she could possibly have obtained. The roast turkey, 
oysters, vegetables steaming hot, and the hot coffee 
had been but just placed upon the table. 

Those devoted men cast a glance over the table, 
and though Rev. S3dvester was struck almost sense- 
less with surprise, the entire group moved slowly along 
into the parlor, where they remained speechless for a 
long time. The act of setting before those hungry 
men a table of delicious eatables was like throwing 
hot water in their faces. After a long continued 
silence, one of the members remarked, “that Mrs. 
Kinkade could not have understood that it was fast 
day.” 

“Is that probable. Brother Kinkade.^” said 
another. ’ 

“Not at all,” was his faint reply, while he sobbed 
as though his heart would break. 

The brethren kneeled around him in prayer, after 
which they sang. 

“Jesus, my all, to heaven has gone.” 

It SO happened that one who differed in his views 
was scrupulously inclined to think Brother Kinkade 
might not be as well calculated to instruct, guide 


312 


The Starless Crown. 


and encourage his wife in the way of holiness as he 
should be and spoke rather chidingly. This was a 
blow to the meek and lowly hearted servant of God, 
oh, how severe ! He arose and stood upright before 
him, with his eyes heavenward, and exclaimed, ‘‘Oh 
Jerusalem, Jerusalem, which killeth the prophets, 
and stoneth them that are sent unto her, how often 
would I have gathered th}’ children together, even 
as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, 
and ye would not.” 


The End of the Battle. 


313 


CHAPTER XXXI. 


The imposition which Sophia had so skillfully 
brought about to afflict her husband and his asso- 
ciating brethren, presuming by the act that she could 
check the progress of Christianity, spread over the 
entire community like the shock of an earthquake. 
When the news reached Kingumton, through the 
influence of Uncle Sammy and Aunt Tabbathy a 
messenger was sent with a dispatch, urging Sylvester 
to comply with their request and immediately return 
to them. The dispatch was so forcibly written that, 
after a little consideration, he felt it his duty to return 
with the messenger, even though if left to himself, 
he would have chosen to have been lost in some 
strange wilderness in quest of solitude. He had a 
dread to meet face to face those dear familiar friends 
and rehearse to them, as would be expected, that 
which had been to him the most bitter pang his heart 
had ever known. But as the duty presented .itself 
before him, he very prudently notified Sophia that 
he had been unexpectedly called to Kingumton and 
expressed his opinion in regard to going in the most 
tender language his lips could utter. To which she 
replied in her rude harsh way, as she frequently did 
when he was about to leave home against her will, 
‘‘Go, but don’t return soon.” At this time she 
emphasized the sentence with still greater force and 
audacity, by saying, “Go, I hope you may not be 
permitted to return.” 


The Stareess Crown. 


314 


Rev. S34vester had man}’ times been overtaken 
with a strange feeling, on being spoken to in a simi- 
lar way, but at this time there was a much stronger 
impression that forced itself upon his mind, that it 
might be their last parting. He felt confident it 
was her wish ; he believed she would feel herself 
honorably liberated from one she did not love, and 
whose society she could not enjoy. 

But it was a thought, oh, how piercing! His 
wife so unloving, unfeeling and unwise ! His heart 
was more deeply crushed than ever, and he cried 
aloud, ‘‘O, Lemuel, Lemuel, my darling son 
Lemuel,” and sunk back speechless upon a couch. 

The kind-hearted messenger administered, and 
spoke encouragingly to him until in time his strength 
revived, and he extended his hand to Sophia, who 
relentlessly stood looking on, saying, “We know 
not what shall be on the morrow. It is not in man 
that walketh to direct his steps.” 

“My dear wife, I love you, Jesus loves you, and 
should it be that I am not to ao'ain return, God o:rant 

O 7 0 

that you may live to become acquainted with the 
truths as they are in Christ Jesus. I cannot give 
you up. I want, if no more here, to meet you in our 
heavenly Father’s land, and if permitted, to greet 
you at the pearly gate.” 

It was an unusual thing for Sylvester’s feelings to 
choke his utterance, but words were inexpressible 
and he could not speak. Then turning to their 
sleeping babe, he raised him up into his arms and 
snugly folded him to his bosom. 

“Yes, now you’ve got that child awake to cry an 
hour. All right, I s’pose you think, so long as I am 
left behind to swing the cradle,” said Sophia, angrily. 


Syi,\'es'1'er’s Premonitions. 


315 

But Sylvester continued to soothe and caress him 
once and again, then gently laid him back upon his 
little bed, bending over him with the same pulsation 
at heart as though he knew it was to be for the last 
time. After which he hastily bowed and left with 
an expression of deepest sorrow stamped upon his 
countenance. The tender-hearted messeno^er hit him 
a lovable tap upon his shoulder as they were leaving 
the doorway, and at the end of the walk sang in an 
undertone, just loud enough for Sylvester’s hearing 
ear to catch: 

“The day is cold and dark, and dreary, 

It rains and the winds are never weary, 

The vines still cling to the mouldering wall, 

At every gust the dead leaves fall. 

And the day is dark and dreary. 

“ Be still, sad heart, and cease repining. 

Behind the cloud is the sun still shining. 

Thy fate is the common fate of all. 

Into each life some rain must fall, 

.Some days must be dark and drear\'.” 

But soon the bells began to jingle and the high 
headed horses to prance and travel with speed over 
the snow-beaten track. Nothing for miles was heard, 
but the sound of bells, and the words, Whoa, steady 
boys,” as the driver held a heav}^ rein with all the 
strength of his arms, and occasionally giving a 
whistle as if intended to interest his traveling com- 
panion and if possible change that unnatural look of 
sadness to that of original brightness. Apparently 
having: become discouiTmed in that, he turned side- 
wise and throwing one arm around Sylvester, for 
whom his heart was in deepest sympathy, closely 
pressed and kissed him. 


3i6 


The Starless Crown. 


The action affected Sylvester much, and to present 
an interpretation of his mind, he sweetly sang: 

“There is a world above 

Where parting is unknown, 

A long eternity of love 
Formed for the good alone ; 

And Faith beholds the dying here 
Translated to that glorious sphere.’’ 

After which he pleaded as far as circumstances 
would admit in behalf of his wife, and expressed 
his wish that the harder part should not, for his sake 
as well as her own, be too outspokenl}’ mentioned. 
That she was a very careless thinker, and apt to say 
anything that first came in her mind, without weigh- 
ing the dross or counting the grains of silver. 

“Mighty few grains of silver could be counted,” 
responded the messenger as he reined the horses up 
to the porch at Uncle Sammy’s. 

The family had taken their seats that mid-wdnter 
evening by the side of a good warm fire to await 
their coming, and were ready at the jingling of 
bells to welcome their special friend with not only 
a social but an affectionate greeting. To Rev. 
Sylvester it was like being transported to another 
hemisphere. “My heart is filled with joy when 
here I have but just entered,” he said. 

The change of scenery, those cheerful, smiling 
faces and jo3'Ous greetings broke in upon him like 
the ra}^s of a mid-summer’s sun, while Aunt Tab- 
bath}^ was hurriedly making ready a seat in a choice 
place by the fire. 

As soon as an opportunit}- was presented, and he 
was not long waiting, said he, “My friends, your 
presence charms me so that the weight of sorrow 


The Story of His Trouble. 317 

with which I was weighed down has died away to a 
speck, compared to what it was when I left home. 
I feel differently. I did have a dread to meet you, 
in consequence of that which would be said. I felt 
more as though I could not rest until I had spent 
much time upon my knees alone, where I could 
without molestation pour out my complaint into the 
ear of Almighty Justice. But you are friends, so 
dear that I feel I could almost lose myself in you, 
certain that I have in you the most irpplicit confi- 
dence. And this sense of your loving kindness has 
changed my heart from dread to one burning with 
desire. While I do not wish to make your hearts 
heavy with my distressing sorrows, I must tell you 
I am disappointed. I had looked forward to the 
joys of a well-ordered home, that I should with my 
smallness be allowed the privilege of much, but so 
bitter is made my life that I have prayed, ‘ Lord, 
give me patience that I may with willingness await 
Thy bidding.’ ” 

He then gave them not only a history of the past 
few days, but of his married life, more fully than at 
any time before, and the pain he felt on leaving 
home oftentimes, especially that afternoon. He told 
them he felt seriously impressed that he should not 
be permitted to return. That he had, according to 
the nature of man, looked forward upon the held of 
life, desirous of living to accomplish a work, that at 
the end of his days he might go bearing his sheaves 
with him. “But, ” he continued, “ should it be ordered 
otherwise, I ‘am prepared, and am willing to enter 
into His rest. “There is but one especial tie — our 
sweet babe. How can I leave him before he has 
learned to lisp th ename of father.^ And what is 


3>8 


The Stareess Crown. 


still more sad is the way he will be brought up and 
instructed.” 

‘‘Brother,” said Aunt Tabbathy, “God is in all 
things. He may not permit Sophia the privilege of 
training that child in the way of the world. Don’t 
feel so badly. Her sinful wish will not mark out 
your boundary, or seal your doom. You may have 
a pleasant visit here among us, and return with 
more strength than was given you to come.” 

“Yes,” said Uncle Sammy, “I guess so, too; 
but we do not blame you for feeling cut to the 
quick. Most any man would. But you must try 
and look on the bright side as much as you can. I 
can’t quote Scripture with you and my wife, but 
then you have got enough of it in you to heal you, 
if it is what they say it is, always a sure balm.” 

“My spiritual enjoyment. Uncle Sammy, is not at 
all altered. My faith, my hope, my trust is the 
same. It is this lack of appreciation and the great 
hindrance my wife is to me ; this pleasure she takes 
in undoing and overthrowing every religious enjoy- 
ment I could have that is in her power, and bar me 
from usefulness.” 

“It would be better for her, according to my 
opinion,” remarked Aunt Tabbathy, “if a mill-stone 
should be hanged about her neck, and she should be 
sunk in the depth of the sea.” 

“My life,” said Sylvester, “is so unlike anything 
I had thought could be,” and he spoke of the peace- 
ful, happy lives of his parents, and the influence it 
had upon his own mind. 

“At Professor Gregnal’s it was the same way. 
One always seemed happy with the other’s society. 
Each lived for the other in word and deed, and here, 


Happy Homes. 


319 


Aunt Tabbathy, in your home is always sunshine. 
These things led me to feel that if I could have a 
companion, it was all I needed to complete my hap- 
piness and labor of love. I felt I would be better 
prepared to accomplish greater good. In view of 
these happy prospects that I was looking forward 
to, after having met Sophia, and as I supposed we 
were mutually united, I could sit and sing to myself : 

“ ‘ Oh, if we are so hap{)y here, 

Amid our toils and pains. 

With thronging cares and dangers near, 

And marr’d by earthly stain. 

How great must be the compass given 
Our souls, to bear the bliss of heaven.’ 

‘‘Then I could dwell upon those words, and con- 
nect the present with the future, and seem to get a 
more correct view of that which is beyond.” 

The evening was far spent with their confidential 
consultation, when Aunt Tabbathy suggested the 
idea of having prepared some tea, toast and sweet- 
meats, and after they had all partaken, for the good 
of Sylvester it was thought best to drop the conver- 
sation for that evening. He then commended each 
to the care of the Great Shepherd and retired for 
the night. 

Immediately after he had left the room Aunt Tijb- 
bathy said, “ My feelings are so stirred for that poor 
dear brother, I know not what to think, or how to 
have him go from under our roof. But he has loving 
parents whose hearts bleed for him daily, and we 
must not be selfish in keeping him from them.” 

“I feel as you do about him, ” said Uncle Sammy, 
“I dread to have him go out of my sight. The 
impressions he is having almost seem like a fore- 


320 


The Starless Crown. 


warning. I would not say to him, but as I have 
looked at him this evening, I have felt that Sophia 
may not have him long to torture. He is certainly 
in a very feeble state. I will not allow him to walk 
over home in the morning. I will drive that way 
and it may be, Tabbathy, you had better go ’long 
over with us. I was thinking he would speak for 
us again next Sabbath, but he looks so poorly I 
don’t know as it would be right to even mention it.” 

He may feel better by Sabbath, as there are yet 
two days for him to rest. I will speak to him about 
it in the morning, and see what he thinks. I would 
much rather hear him than any other minister I ever 
heard preach,” continued Aunt Tabbathy. 

“Yes, by far. He has got an essence bottle in 
him that mighty few ministers have, according to 
my mind,” said Uncle Sammy. 

“Had it not been for Sophia, he would have been 
our minister to-day, and the way she took possession 
of him is too bad. Then, to fill his cup with bitter- 
ness, I cannot think otherwise than that he is being 
led as a lamb to the slaughter.” 

“The hotter the blaze the sooner it dies,” said 
Uncle Sammy. “I think we may look for a turning 
point not far ahead.” 

“But T do not want anything should befall Sylves- 
ter. It is commonly said ‘the good die young.’ I 
have looked upon him hopefull}’. He has been so 
successful in scattering much seed that has taken 
root and sprung up not to wither away, and yet there 
are waste places where the sower is needed to sow.” 

The exercise of mind kept the two busy until a 
late hour that night; and in the morning, agreeably 
to Sylvester’s wish, he was taken home to his parents 


Welcome Home. 


321 


by Uncle Sammy, with Aunt Tabbathy to accom- 
pany them. 

He reminded them by the way, that he should 
keep from his parents the most severe trials of his 
life. That for them to know all there was to know 
would only be to them an unnecessary suffering and 
would in no way alleviate him. He told them he 
believed if he continued in faith he should have 
strength, for we read, “As thy days, so shall thy 
strength be.” 

The sight of Sylvester was no surprise. The 
news had been communicated and the whole house 
had been confused with clapping of hands and joyful 
exclamations until, as Aunt Susan said, I if I 

did n’t think well nigh everything in the house would 
be upset. I tell you, Sylvester, we are all of us so 
glad to see you. I told them if I didn’t happen to 
get the first hold of you, I would hang on the longest. 
And now, Tabbathy, we want you should lay your 
things right off, and stay along with us through the 
whole day, for Joe is going to bring over some nice 
fat poultry from the south barn, and we want to have 
a right down good old-fashioned time of it, so Syl- 
vester will know he has got around home again. 
And to Aunt Tabbathy she cautiously said, “ It does 
tickle me so, to think that woman ain’t with him, it 
makes me feel as light as a feather.” 

The excitement was such that it was some minutes 
before any notice was taken of that pale, wan, sickly 
hue upon his face, but as that died clown and Aunt 
Susan began to take things more coolly, she sud- 
denly stopped with a look of seriousness, saying, 
“Why Sylvester it ’pears to me you are looking 
most dreadful hollow-eyed. I want to know now if 


322 


The Starless Crown. 


you have come home sick,” instantly laying her 
hand across his forehead. 

‘^He is not feeling as well as usual,” said Aunt 
Tabbathy, ‘‘but we want he should mend up, to be 
able to speak for us on the coming Sabbath.” 

“Well, I don’t know about that ; I think he should 
not preach any more just now for awhile.” 

“ I am' not sick, mother, only a little complaining ; 
I think I shall be able to speak. I have a desire to, 
and if possible, must.” Then turning his eyes side- 
wise to Aunt Tabbathy who understood his meaning, 
and after waiting for an opportunity, he faintly 
whispered, “It may be for the last time. There 
are a few things I had hoped I might live to see, 
one of which is Uncle Sammy’s conversion.” 

“ I am inclined to think him nearing the path of 
rectitude,” said Aunt Tabbathy. “You, brother, 
have convinced him of man}^ things. I have faith to 
believe the time will come and at no distant day, 
when he shall have thrown away the shackles of 
unbelief. You have been an instrument in the hand 
of God in doing him great good, and that you may 
live to do him still greater good, is the prayer of 
my heart.” 

By this time Uncle Sammy was in sight, with the 
boys flocking around him like so many tame lambs, 
and frisking quite as playfully. 

“Oh, don’t go home yet,” were the first words 
heard as their voices rang in the open air. 

“That will have to be as Tabbathy says; we 
didn’t come expecting to stay, only brought Sylves- 
ter over.” 

“ I hardly think it advisable to remain,” articulated 
Aunt Tabbathy, and as that was very much the 


A Pleasant Reunion. 


323 


opinion of Uncle Sammy, they began to prepare for 
home. But Uncle Joe and Aunt Susan were so 
persistent, with the help of the re-enforcement of 
children, the day was spent, but not lost, for while 
they were in social conversation with the elder mem- 
bers of the family, they were also highly entertained 
with the buoyant sportings of boyhood, and the 
laughter of merry-hearted girls as they busied them- 
selves making ready a full table of delicious eatables. 

But there, in the midst of open sunshine on one 
hand, and on the other the sunshine of hope, they 
were frequently being made acquainted with some 
new and valuable expression, spoken by Sylvester 
as one whose mind was over-charged with more 
weighty matters, with now and then an ode which 
they presumed he wished should serve as a prospectus 
to present the rudiments of his "mind to his hearing 
friends. 

“While it is interesting to hear, you, I am afraid 
you are over-tasking yourself by too close attention 
to study,” said Aunt Tabbathy. 

“In m}^ thoughtfulness, I am lifted above the 
world, and to-day (giving Aunt Tabbathy a look) 
feel more like one being led beside still waters and 
made to lie down in green pastures than otherwise. 
That which is of moment to me to-day is the wish 
that I might be able to leave behind me lasting 
impressions of divine love, for the good of my 
fellow beings, that could never be effaced.” 

“There are those of us to-day who will never lose 
that which they have gained through your instru- 
mentality. You are a jewel in the hand of your 
Maker.” 

‘‘Aunt Tabbathy has for me a kindred tie, she 


324 


The Starless Crown. 


counts the gold but not the dross,” said Sylvester. 

Before the last sentence had fallen from his lips, 
Uncle Joe came to the door, saying, ‘‘What do you 
think, Tabbathy! Susan and I have been talking it 
over, and we think we best send for the doctor. 
There is something not quite right about our boy. 
He wants a little mending up some way.” 

“It would be all well enough, I think,” said Uncle 
Sammy, “a stitch in time saves nine, according to 
the old rule.” While Aunt Tabbathy sat thought- 
fully looking on, making no reply. 

“Should the doctor come to see me he would give 
me some medicine, and I do not like that kind of 
food; I prefer to wait until after the Sabbath. I may 
feel better by Monday ; if I do not, and you think 
best, I shall consent to a physician.” 

“Yes, but you may be clear down ’gin that time.” 

“My mother’s hand has a pain-killing effect on me, 
it has already helped my head. I think I have felt 
better ever since her palm pressed my forehead. I 
should much rather live first under the influence of 
what she can do for me.” 

Sylvester’s confidence in his mother’s ability to 
cure settled the question, and with some sport on 
the part of the younger boys who, interested in what 
was being said, began to frolic and jump, and mean- 
while sang out, “Mother’s hand has cured us.” 

“Yes,” said Aunt Susan, “and^la^, if I don’t 
have to lay it on till it ’s well nigh blistered.” 

At a late hour in the day Uncle Sammy and Aunt 
Tabbathy b^gan to prepare for home, feeling bene- 
fited for having remained with their cherished friend 
— the idol of their hearts. To their already enlight- 
ened minds he had still added new and valuable 


Final Injunctions. 


325 

selections of thought as given them for a long con* 
tinued remembrance. 

During the early part of the evening Uncle Joe 
interested Sylvester by explaining many particulars 
in regard to the improvements he had been making 
on the farms — such as new lanes with self-swinging 
gates, etc., which he considered very convenient, 
until one and another kept dropping in, and in time 
the whole family were seated around in the room. 
It was very animating to Sylvester to see their 
faces all turned to him, and their mouths drawn to a 
smile, just enough to show the pearl. 

^‘You cage me round as though I was a bird of 
prey,” said Sylvester, cheerfully. 

‘‘We wish there was just one more little bird here 
for us to cage around,” said Frankie. 

Sylvester was at once overcome. Frankie had 
unconsciously troubled a smothered thought that 
could no longer remain hidden, and the tears gushed 
like the breaking up of a fountain. As soon as he 
could govern his feelings he related as many of the 
particulars of his life with Sophia as he felt was 
prudent for his parents’ sake, and made them 
acquainted with his wish in case of his death. He 
told them he felt impressed to accept the time being, 
a more favorable opportunity might not be presented. 

With all the love of their hearts, those kind parents 
assured him that they would never forget nor forsake 
his precious babe, but would care for it, as they had 
for him, if permitted, and would have his portion of 
property secured to the child in a way that could 
not be exhausted by any, not even its mother. 

Whilst we could relate much in regard to the 
arrangement made between Sylvester and his sor- 


326 


The Starless Crown. 


rowing parents in reference to their financial affairs, 
we will not pause to give it room, but hasten on to 
that point which was of still greater interest. 

When Sylvester had received the desired satisfac- 
tion in regard to his little son, Lemuel, and not 
willing to trust any part to be said in the light of an 
unseen to-morrow, he gave them good advice, say- 
ing: ‘‘I may live to speak to you many times, and 
should I, it can do no harm if I now tell you of 
those things which I wish you to remember; and 
should I not live, you ma}’ be benefited by the hear- 
ing.” 

He then addressed his parents and each sister and 
brother separately, affectionately impressing their 
minds with the present fading beauties of this lower 
world, and compared it to a spacious garden, whose 
fruits, flowers and leaves are nipped by autumn’s 
frost. He presented to their minds the justice in 
appreciating all the visible things of nature, and 
of looking with admiration upon the beauties of this 
great garden, which God had fashioned and planted 
for the beneflt of man. He then compared this to 
the still greater garden of God grown beneath the 
celestial skies. 

He endeavored to bring accurately to their under- 
standing the important’ truth which is, if it be just 
that we should appreciate and admire these things 
given us that are fading, how much greater should 
be our love and appreciation of those things prepared 
for us which are unfading and undying. 

After having been listened to for a long time he 
bade them good-night, with his mother to accom- 
pany him to his room, and during the night she 
several times visited his room. None but those 


His Last Sermon. 


327 


who know a mother’s love can realize Aunt Susan’s 
anxiety and motherly watch-care. 

At the breakfast hour Saturday morning he was 
up and ready to appear at the table, where he found 
especially prepared for him some broiled chicken, 
jell}-, etc., all of which he relished with satisfaction. 

Immediately after breakfast he assured his people 
that he had an unyielding desire to speak for the 
hearing of his friends the coming Sabbath, and 
should like to remain as retired as he could conven- 
iently, to prepare his mind for it. 

Unwilling to consent, and not feeling at liberty to 
oppose, the reply was simply, ‘ 4 ’m so ’fraid, Syl- 
vester.” 

Much to the surprise of the family, when Sabbath 
morning came he manifested his usual brightness, 
and with apparently a comfortable degree of energy 
he went forth to his Sabbath day’s labor. Uncle 
Sammy and Aunt Tabbathy, as well as others, had 
been standing between fear and hope. They had 
not dared to insist upon his speaking for fear of 
conflicting right with wrong, but as the Sabbath 
opened upon them, and Sylvester was found upon 
the pulpit stand, their hearts overflowed with grati- 
tude, and they were ready to exclaim, “Truly, the 
Lord is good.” As he came forward and took his 
place upon the foot-stool, that serene beauty which 
was so natural to him was as visible as at any time 
previous, and as he looked abroad over the vast 
multitude that had assembled to hear him, his eyes 
sparkled like one whose heart is alive with anima- 
tion. He chose for the foundation of his remarks 
words found in Acts xiii, 26: “Brethren, children 
of the stock of Abraham, and those among you that 


328 


The Starless Crown. 


fear God, to us is the word of this salvation sent 
forth.” 

First, he laid particular stress upon the words, 
“ those among you that fear God, to us is the word 
of this salvation sent,” and contrasted the difference 
between those who fear God and those who do not, 
and their unparalleled distinction. He told them 
those who had no fear of God had no love for him, 
and were forgetful of him. They were not afraid 
to sin; that they had no consciousness of the all- 
seeing Eye of an eternal Father. 

He laid before them in plain language the com- 
plicated union between the vile sinner and one who 
was morally so. He told them the moral sinner 
might commit a sin that was exceedingly sinful in 
the sight of God, where the more vile sinner could 
have no influence to sin. Then, too, it might not 
be done with a desire to do a wrong, but from a 
lack of grace in the heart. Consequently, a moral 
sinner being out of Christ, who lives for himself and 
the world, is a subject of sin, and living under the 
power of sin has no more heirship to the heavenly 
inheritance than the vile one. It is clearly said, “ if 
any man be in Christ he is a new creature. Old 
things have passed away, behold, alb things have 
become new.” 

He told them where there was no love or fear 
there was no obedience; that the Most High was 
to be both worshiped and obeyed, and that if in 
those things there was a default, there was also a 
void. 

He reminded them that obedience to God was a 
sure evidence of a union with God; that no person 
could live in obedience to God and not be His, and 


Greetings From Friends. 


329 

it is to those in obedience to whom the text alludes, 
for it says, “ Those among you that fear God, to us 
is the word of this salvation sent forth.” 

He continued by saying: If God had chosen just 
a few, an elect body, a certain number to share in 
this salvation sent forth, there could have been no 
grounds for the text, but for the reason that God is 
a God that cannot lie, the truth of man’s impartial 
redemption through Jesus Christ is vividly set forth 
in the text.” 

So well did Rev. Sylvester handle the words of 
divine truth, that ere he left the stand he had torn 
the web of predestination to threads, and in such a 
way as to remove the wad of unbelief that Uncle 
Sammy was ever after able to see through the pipe. 
From the aged who leaned upon his staff, to the 
rosy-cheeked child of anticipation, all were alike 
happy with the prospect of again being permitted 
the privilege of shaking hands with their dearly 
beloved ex-pastor, and no sooner had he left the 
pulpit than he was thronged to so great a degree 
that Uncle Sammy was obliged to interfere, and 
have the congregation called to order, after which 
Rev. Sylvester stepped upon the back of a seat 
where he was held whilst he addressed them in 
tones of deepest affection. He thanked them for 
their kind manifestation of love for him and reas- 
sured them of his sincere regard for them, and if 
permitted would meet with them again soon. He 
was then carried by his father and Uncle Sammy, in 
consequence of the thronging multitude, and placed 
to ride by the side of his mother. 

During the hours of the afternoon he was urged 
to retire and try to rest up, for, as Aunt Susan said. 


330 


The Starless Crown. 


“Law! Sylvester, if you don’t look well-nigh tired 
to death.” 

Not willing to disturb unnecessarily their already 
awakened feelings in regard to him, he strove to 
appear in every way natural, by occasionally speak- 
ing of some religious matter of importance which 
had fastened itself upon his mind, or the gratifica- 
tion it was to him to have been privileged to speak 
once more for the hearing of those friends so partic- 
ularly dear to him. Just as the twilight hour was 
coming on he said: “My dear parents, I must confess 
to you that I feel like the tired harvest man who 
looks about to find a grassy bed beneath some 
pleasant shade to rest.” 

“Yes, I guess so too, and law! if I don’t think 
you had best lie down, Sylvester.” 

“I think so myself, Susan,” said Uncle Joe, and 
both immediately arose, but ere they had left the 
room a strange sinking sensation passed over him, 
which greatly differed from anything they had ever 
before known, and by those terrified parents he was 
quickly caught up and placed upon a couch. 

When consciousness returned, he said to the 
physician who had been summoned to his bed-side^ 
“I am confident of having passed beyond the trials 
of this life. I am fast nearing the eternal gate.” 

When asked by him if he was having pain, he 
replied, “No, no pain.” 

“Why,” said Aunt Susan, “don’t you feel any 
aches or pains anywhere, Sylvester?” 

“No, not any, dear mother, I know no ache, no 
pain! None have come to disquiet me. No sable 
shadows have arisen to darken, my upward flight; 
only a sweet peace, so serene, is all I realize. It 


Syi^vester’s Ileness. 


331 


takes possession of rrie wholly, and I think as I lie 
here, soothed by the Hand Divine, how easy it is 
for Jesus to make a dying bed.” 

Uncle Joe and Aunt Susan- having a desire to 
learn of the physician something more definite in 
regard to Sylvester’s condition, beckoned him to 
another apartment, where, before time was given 
him to tender his opinion. Uncle Sammy and Aunt 
Tabbathy had arrived and were ready to join in the 
consultation. 

In her haste Aunt Tabbathy said: ‘‘You are 
hopeful, aren’t you, doctor.^” 

“If the remedies act as I wish to have them,” 
he replied. 

“I am thinking whether or no he has not had a 
good deal of fever,” said Aunt Susan, “for he has 
been most dreadful dry.” 

“Not very much fever, Mrs. Kinkade. At pres- 
ent I could not name disease, but to my mind his 
state of debility more closely resembles an over-tax 
of mind, a too close application to study, perhaps. 
It is more that than physical derangement. He 
seems to have weakened until he has become per- 
fectly debilitated.” 

Encouraged 'with the doctor’s opinion. Uncle Joe 
straightened himself up and said, “Susan, wife, then 
if that is so, our boy will be better ’gin mornin’.” 

Not thinking it wise to either too openly confess 
or conceal, the physician remained silent, and Uncle 
Joe and Aunt Susan returned more hopeful to the 
bedside. 

“I think,” said Uncle Sammy, whose feelings had 
kindled to a flame, “that I could tell you some- 
thing about it.” Meantime reaching out one arm 


332 


The Starless Crown. 


and laying his hand upon the physician’s shoulder, 
looking him sternly in the face, said: ‘‘He has been 
ground under the millstone of oppression, that is 
what is taking out his life.” 

“I am not altogether blind in this matter,” said 
the physician. “It is sad we know, cruelly sad.” 

“But how can we give him up.^ It must be that 
he will again rall}^,” said Aunt Tabbathy. 

“We can but hope,” replied the physician. 

As they yet sat looking each other in the face 
with sad hearts, the physician said feelingly, “We as 
friends suffer the greater pain. Sylvester is easy, 
and, in my opinion, will sleep away.” 

“Must he, must it be?” said Aunt Tabbathy, 
wringing her hands and bursting into a flood of tears. 

Uncle Sammy made an effort to soothe her, but 
could not express his feelings to be understood. 

“It is necessary that we remain composed,” 
spoke the physician, and passed back to his patient 
who seemed to be sweetly sleeping. 

It was but a short time, however, ere he awoke, 
and seeing Uncle Sammy and Aunt Tabbathy, who 
were by that time standing near him, he extended 
his hand to them. “ I am so glad to see 3^011,” he 
faintly whispered, and pointing upward he said: 
“The gates are opening for me.” 

“I am afraid to have you speak; don’t try, 
brother,” said Aunt Tabbathy. 

“No, no,” said Uncle Joe, Aunt Susan joining 
him. “You must not talk, don’t hardly think, Syl- 
vester, but just shut 3^our eyes right up and sleep 
now. If you should onl}^ have a good night’s sleep, 
and once get rested out,|^law! if I don’t think by 
sunrise you might feel as bright as a lark.” 


Last Words. 


333 


Sylvester turned his thoughtful eyes to Aunt 
Tabbathy, and again pointing toward the Throne, 
he moved his lips, and said in silent syllables, “I’ll 
be there.” 

The physician kindly advised as did his parents, 
and assured him that rest in his case was more 
essential than remedies. After which he soon fell 
asleep and passed several hours of unbroken rest. 
AVhen he awoke he said aloud, “My friends, I yet 
am here, but in a little while and I shall be gone. 
I want you near me, I wish to see and speak to you 
once more.” 

The entire family quickly gathered around him, 
and with a look of love he said, “You are so dear 
to me, I love you more than I can tell, and before 
I leave you I must again say to you, remember those 
things which I have told you, and know also, that 
every hour is a leaf of time — every week, month 
and year a calendar of time. Some have given 
them but a few years, some many more, but my 
dear parent, sister, brother, friend, whichever way 
it may be with you, be sure of one thing, that every 
leaf of your life bears the inscription, ‘Love to God.’ 
Let every page be stereotyped with the breath of 
prayer. That you may bear the imprint of the 
most high God, the Prince of Peace, and be clothed 
with that garment of righteousness which is accept- 
able to God, of a sweet smelling savor.” 

Before he seemed to have made an end of speak- 
ing, his strength began to again leave him, but after 
having rested a few minutes, he revived and kissed 
them each good-bye. During the little time he yet 
remained he appeared insensible to anything around 
him, only as he occasionally would seem to have 


334 


The Starless Crown. 


been aroused, and opening his eyes widely would 
‘look about with apparent surprise, and be heard to 
say, “What, what is that, do you hear.^” 

When asked, “What is it that you hear.^” He 
would knowingly reply, “Music, sweet music!” 

“Sylvester, my dear child,” said his mother, “do 
you hear sweet music 

“Oh, yes, dear mother, my ear is charmed with 
sweetest strains of heavenly airs.” 

Close there, unseen, unheard by mortal ear, beside 
him were those dim but tuneful watchers waiting 
his appointed time. 

Just when the early dawn had lost its suit of gray, 
and the morning sun, the “powerful king of day,” 
had raised his yellow head above the eastern horizon 
and spread afar his gorgeous wing in glittering rays, 
Sylvester’s sanctified spirit was borne on wings of 
love, and placed by angels’ hands to rest, beneath 
the mellow golden rays of the Sun of Righteousness. 



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Sophia a Widow. 


337 


CHAPTER XXXII. 


‘‘Dead! Dead, did you say.^ Sylvester dead ! ” 
“I did.” 

“Well he has prayed himself to death. It is just 
as I believe. One who will always sit under the 
shadow of perpetual watchfulness will be sure to 
die. He has lived staring death in the face ever 
since I have known him, and long before, I suppose. 
What was the matter with him.^ Did he say any- 
thing about me before he died ? ” 

“I could not say. He died suddenly.” 

“He wasn’t killed, was he.^” 

“He was not,” said the messenger, who was 
almost dumbfounded at the heartlessness which she 
exhibited, and proceeded to relate the circumstance 
of his death as had been given him. 

“My sakes, is that so! ' Aren’t they going to 
bring him home.^” 

“There had been no arrangements made when I 
left. They wished to first send for you, also to 
have me notify the people hereof his sudden death.” 

“Well” she said, as she arose and turned a few 
times round as though she Was in a whirl. “The 
mercy knows how I am to see through. There is 
everything to be done, a dispatch must go to my 
people, some trading must be done, and I must have 
some money. You had better drive around as 
quickly as you can, call on a few of the best families, 
that will be enough, but be sure you see the deacons, 


22 


33^ 


The Starless Crown. 


and don’t forget to tell them that I must see them 
right awa}^, for there will be no time to lose.” 

The messenger obeyed, and in a short time the 
entire neighborhood was made acquainted with the 
sad news, many of whom repaired at once to the 
parsonage, and among them were the good deacons 
agreeable to her request. 

Sophia made known to them her wants. A suit 
of mourning must be had, and nothing would satisfy 
short of a bombazine suit heavily trimmed with 
crape, crape hat and veil, with every other necessary 
article" to correspond. “It is a question in my 
mind,” said one of the sisters, “how these things are 
all to be got done. Will there be time, think 

“He can’t be buried until I am ready to have 
him, but I do not yet know when his remains are to 
be brought up. Of course they ’ll come. The 
funeral won’t be there, I reckon,” she emphatically 
said. 

“ I presume it was expected for you to return 
with the messenger to have a voice in the arrange- 
ment,” said one of the sisters. 

“Here is where they are to be made.” 

The deacons exchanged a mechanical look, and 
then told her they should drive to Kingumton, and 
if she wished, she could ride down with them, also 
expressed their opinion in regard to it, as being the 
better way for her to do. 

Not feeling disposed to accept their advice, Sophia 
was soon left with but few who remained simply for 
company’s sake, while many did as they had purposed, 
rode to Kingumton. 

When the messenger returned, others also from 
Burkshire had arrived, and Sophia’s plans were 


Plans for the Funeral. 


339 


made known to Uncle Sammy and Aunt Tabbathy, 
who by this time, knowing the wish of the afflicted 
family, and feeling, as they did, that it would be 
•unnecessary to have the remains carried to Burk- 
shire for a few hours, to be transferred so imme- 
diately back, felt cut to the quick. With this fog 
of sorrow before them, through which must be made 
a pathway. Uncle Sammy and Aunt Tabbathy felt 
obliged, as friends, to officiate, even though on the 
part of Uncle Sammy it* was doubly sad, as he was 
not only a mourner, but his heart was undergoing 
that change as is known only to those who enter 
upon a new life. 

They therefore talked the matter over carefully 
between themselves, and having learned as they had 
Sophia’s disposition, that her delight was always to 
be on the side opposite to reason, they concluded it 
would be necessary to send out some one who had a 
more correct idea of her, and would have an influ- 
ence, by being exceedingly careful, in her behalf, in 
order to get her consent to have the funeral obsequies 
at the home church in Kingumton. 

A pkin was soon decided upon, but not wishing 
to assume any unnecessary responsibility, but have 
every arrangement in harmony with the family of 
Mr. Kinkade, Uncle Sammy and Aunt Tabbathy 
made it convenient to immediately see them. 

The plan was a wise one on the part of the 
mourning family, who thought it altogether better 
that Uncle Sammy, who was more closely allied to 
Sophia, should accomplish the mission. 

When the question was once settled, there was no 
time lost, but as soon as possible, which was at an 
early hour in the afternoon, he started on his errand. 


340 


The Starless Crown. 


and returned in due time, having met, as was sup- 
posed, with great success. 

‘‘Then you really have been successful, have 
you.^” said Aunt Tabbathy. 

“ Oh yes, I managed in this way — said but little 
at first, warmed my fingers good by the lire, then 
turned to the baby and began to praise that. I told 
her I thought it looked like her; that was enough to 
make my judgment all right you see, and she very 
soon consented to have the funeral here, as has been 
arranged without any further talk, and I guess she 
will have some crape basted on one of her suits 
already made for the present, and be willing to wear 
a borrowed bonnet for once, as I said. Then, too, 
it pleased her when I told her a dispatch had gone 
to Copperville.” 

“Does she manifest any feeling.^ ” 

‘‘Mighty little, I guess. I see nothing like grief or 
tears, and I have not heard tell of any. She will 
not be down before Tuesday evening, she thinks, on 
account of the baby, and by that time her people will 
be here if they come, and that they will without 
doubt.” 

“That will be* in plenty of time for her. I may 
be wrong, donH doubt I am, but as yet I cannot feel 
to say, ‘I bless the Hand that blasts each rising hope 
of earthly bliss, ’ — the lot of that dear brother, and 
now to know he is gone, to be forever gone. How 
can we give him up.^ ” 

“Yes, Tabbathy, it is hard to give him up, but I 
feel thankful that we sent for him, and that it was 
our privilege to be with him in his last hours, which 
is what we should not have had, had it not been for 
his uncomfortable life at home, and, Tabbathy, the 


Uncle Sammy’s Conversion. 341 

way he was impressed tells me the hand of God was 
in it. He was prepared, and met a triumphant 
death, a glorious end. Nor is this all. I have a 
blessedness in my heart by his having spoken for us 
this last time, that had he not, I may never have 
had. Hard as it is that he is gone, he has left 
his light behind him, and we must be satisfied to 
live by that light w^hich was in a life gone past.” 

As soon as Aunt Tabbathy could control her 
feelings, after having burst into a flood of tears 
afresh, she repeated to Uncle Sammy her conversa- 
tion with Sylvester during his absence on the previous 
Friday, and said, “To-day, only to-da}^ and the 
shackles are thrown away. Could he only have 
known it ere his spirit took its flight. It was one 
thing among the many he had hoped he might live 
to see.” 

‘‘Yes, indeed, I am sorry he could not have. It 
would have been to him a great satisfaction.” 

“ Mother, ” said little Thaddie, who was an atten- 
tive listener, “ don’t you remember what Elder 
Sylvester told us one time when he preached from 
the psalms where it says, ‘Be still and know that I 
am God.’ It helps me not to cr}’, but to want to 
keep in the King’s highway, just where he was and 
follow on.” 

“That is it, my little son, never depart from the 
King’s highway, for it is the way of holiness and 
leads directly to the Celestial City.” 

A little later and Lucas Kinkade was seen coming 
with hurried steps to the door, to tell them they had 
just received a line from Sophia, saying S3dvester 
should not be buried until Sabbath, that they need 
not expect her down before Saturda^L She could 


342 


The Starless Crown. 


not any sooner be suitably prepared. Father and 
mother want to know what is best to do. 

‘‘Pay her no attention at all, ’’said Uncle Sammy. 
“I endorse it,” was Aunt Tabbathy’s quick reply. 

“An opportunity was given her to have had a 
voice in the arrangement, but a new dress and a 
crape veil was as far as she could think. It would 
be very unwise to make any change on her account, 
and it might inconvenience those who come from a 
distance. It is now too late, tell them; also, that 
we will be back soon.” 

They spent as much time as they possibly could 
with their afflicted friends, until train time on Tues- 
day, when the friends from Copperville arrived. 

It was a great relief to Aunt Tabbathy when 
Aunt Sabrina expressed her unwillingness to remain 
over night without seeing Sophia. An opportunity 
was presented, and after a little rest and refreshment 
she was carried to Burkshire. 

Uncle Sammy was much pleased to see Jeremiah, 
a double cousin, and one, too, who in other days had 
been his particular associate, and who had shared 
with him many times in the sports of boyhood, but 
one whom time and distance had separated from 
him for many a long year. Consequently, there 
was a long line of reminiscences that could be pre- 
sented on either side to occupy the leisure moments. 

Whilst they were in social conversation, deeply 
interested with each other’s welfare, there was no 
connecting thread to fasten their fellowship to that 
which was passing between Saul and Aunt Tabba- 
thy. It is not probable to suppose, agreeable to her 
irresistible desire to impress Saul’s mind that there 
was much remaining untold, things that could not 


Sophia Again Obnoxious. 


343 


be related until he should have gotten full possession 
of those unhappy events connected with the history 
of S 3 dvester’s life as they had fallen from his own 
lips. 

When Sophia was sent for at an earl^^ hour on 
Wednesday morning she evdnced surprise, saying 
she had ordered a postponement, that she had been 
doing as rapidlv as she could, but was nowhere near 
ready. She was plainly told that her change of 
mind was too late for a change in the arrangement, 
and that the funeral obsequies would occur at two 
o’clock that afternoon, and that the present would 
be her last opportunity. 

After some little fretting had been done and a 
few peevish words spoken, with the help of Aunt 
Sabrina Sophia was at last equipped ‘‘ in a distaste- 
ful way,” as she said, and they were started on the 
road for Kingumton by the way of Clarence, which 
increased the distance several miles, to get the hat 
that had been ordered. Having fleet horses, they 
were conve3'ed around in time to be seated at the 
dinner table at Uncle Samm3”s with the famil3’. 
The3^ had been seated at the table but a few min- 
utes when Aunt Sabrina broke the silence by saving 
she felt most dreadful sorry to think the funeral 
couldn’t been put off a little ; that she did like to see 
some respect paid to the dead, to which there was 
no repl3^ 

Immediatel3' after dinner Sophia began to adjust 
her hat and arrange her veil before the mirror, first 
face view, then back and on either side, b3' the aid 
of a small hand-glass, and, after getting it as she 
thought properly arranged, she called out, ‘‘Aunt 
Tabbath3’, do you not think this becoming.^” taking 


344 


The Starless Crown. 


a step forward, then turning sidewise that she might 
have a more correct aspect. 

‘‘Not at all becoming, Sophia,” she said with a 
seriousness that turned Sophia’s friendly manner to 
an inflexible stiffness. Aunt Sabrina, whose heart 
was suddenly touched with sympathy in Sophia’s 
behalf, began with great pains to inspect the new 
hat, and gave it as her opinion that it looked as 
well if not better than anything she had ever before 
had on. Sophia continued to make herself ready 
with her lips turned to a pout, and at an early hour 
all were conveyed to the house of Mr. Kinkade. 

For the first time, so far as was known, Sophia 
burst into a flood of tears as she neared the casket 
which incased all that remained of her afflicted hus- 
band, fainted and was carried from the room. Those 
unacquainted with the circumstances, of whom Pro- 
fessor Gregnal was one, approached her with sym- 
pathy, and with a voice mellowed with the sweet 
spirit of grace, he presented in soothing tones her 
husband’s death as unaccompanied by pain, throbs 
and heartaches, all of which had been spared him, 
as a boon of immortal love. 

“’Tis true,” he said, “we grieve that the 'silver 
cord ’ which bound up so many high hopes and happy 
anticipations for greater usefulness should now be 
loosed — grieve, though that ‘ cord ’ find a fastening 
in the better land.” 

He spoke of his close acquaintance with the 
deceased during his college course and his attachment 
to him whose attractive and engaging character was 
now made perfect in glory. In consequence of the 
strong tie that had bound Mr. and Mrs. Gregnal to 
Sylvester they were better prepared to sympathize 


Dust to Dust. 


345 


with Sophia, whose feeling had become of an over- 
whelming nature, and so pitiable were her deep 
sighs and heavy groans that even the heart of a myrmi- 
don would have melted. Not having sufficient 
strength to support herself, it became the duty of two 
of masculine power to kindly care for her during the 
exercises, and as Professor Gregnal freely offered 
his service to officiate on one side, it fell to the lot of 
Uncle Samm}' to till the sphere of action on the other. 
While Aunt Tabbathy and Mrs. Gregnal locked arm 
in arm and kept in close proximity to administer 
the tonic when required. 

In this fearful condition, while all that remained 
of Rev. Sylvester Kinkade was being borne to its 
last resting ‘place, Sophia was led supported by the 
two, to the cemetery, where she saw the casket 
lowered in the grave and listened to the last requiem. 
There she saw left intrusted to the tomb his sacred 
remains to return, earth to earth, dust to dust, ashes 
to ashes. 


346 


The Starless Crown. 


CHAPTER XXXIII. 


We now see Sophia with an infant babe in her 
arms, and the mantle of widowhood thrown around 
her. The funeral obsequies had passed, the delega- 
tion dispersed, the financial affairs had been adjusted, 
and all was over, like a vessel safely moored in port, 
leaving the ruffled waters behind. But she, though 
unconscious of her position, stood like an elm in the 
midst of a sandy desert. 

‘‘Sophia,” said Aunt Sabrina, “what’s been goin’ 
on, do you know.^ I see a good deal of close whis- 
perin’ right away after the funeral. Don’t you know 
what they are expectin’ to do.^” 

“No, I’ve not been told one word, neither have 
they offered me one cent, and here I am left with 
this baby.” 

“ It may be they think you have salary money 
enough to last you for awhile ; ’tis n ’t long yet since 
he was buried.” 

“I have got to find out,” said Sophia, “I was not 
pleased with their pushing me back to the parsonage 
as soon as the casket was sunk in the grave.” 

“I thought myself that was most a dreadful strange 
move, when, too, 3-011 was so faintin’ like. ’ T was n’t 
doin’ as Christians ought to do, I did n’t think.” 

“I had expected to have staid back long enough 
to have seen how things were to have been managed. 
Of course I shall expect Sylvester’s share of the 
property, and now they could not keep it away from 


What Next ? 


347 


me, do you think they could ? Is not bab}^ Sylvester’s 
heir, and I, too?” 

‘‘I don’t understand the law myself, but I should n’t 
suppose they could. I am sorry you did n’t stay 
down when you were there, then maybe I could 
have had a chance to put in a word. As you are 
mine I have a right to a word. But here we both 
are off in Burkshire, givin’ them a chance to take 
all the advantage.” 

Mr. Brown’s home business demanded his atten- 
tion, and being desirous of seeing his old friends, he 
with Aunt Sabrina to accompany him, drove round 
and made short calls on the different families with 
whom he was connected, on Thursday after tjie 
funeral, after which they were taken to Burkshire 
to spend a little time with Sophia, and he returned 
home on the Saturday evening train, leaving Aunt 
Sabrina to be society for Sophia for a few weeks, 
also to enjoy visiting those upon whom she had 
called, and whose acquaintance she desired. 

Several days wore wearily away, and no one came 
from Kingumton, not even Saul, who had remained, 
a guest at Uncle Sammy’s. The deacons began 
to interest themselves, and thought it about time 
Mrs. Kinkade knew where she was going, as they 
were not willing to live without a pastor, and the 
parsonage was the only proper home for one. 

“I do not think I shall move until provided for,” 
said Sophia, triumphantly. 

“We are willing you should remain until the 
house is needed; we would not crowd you out be- 
fore, but that will be but a short time. There is a 
man now ready to settle with us, and will be here 
to fill the pulpit next Sabbath.” 


348 


The Starless Crown. 


“I am greatly in need of some money,” said 
Sophia, “there is, I believe, some back salary.” 

“Not one cent, madam. Your husband’s salary 
was kept paid in advance, and you are now ahead 
of us quite an amount, besides the extra expense for 
attire to attend your husband’s funeral.” 

“Shocking,” said Sophia, “and Sylvester’s pock- 
ets forever empty. I can tell,” she continued, “ I 
hold the papers,” and returning to the desk began 
to shuffle to find the proof that there was quite a 
sum due, which should be handed over to her. 

“Argument is unnecessary in the case,” responded 
the deacons, “ we were too well acquainted with 
your husband to suspicion the slightest default on 
his part, but we affirm that his reward was univer- 
sally paid before due.” 

Not wishing to contend with her, the good 
deacons arose with a smile upon their faces, and 
from their lips fell the words, which were caught as 
they left the doorway, “She’s got her last dollar.” 
It was understood that there was a possibility of 
.being shoved aside, but to where was a question. 
“It ’s a truth,” said Sophia, “I shall have to go to 
Kingumton for a strike. Father and Mother 
Kinkade must be made to know they now have 
something to do.” 

“Yes, I guess so, too, but you will have to be most 
dreadful careful that you don’t let too much slip out. 
You know you might get excited like. It wouldn’t 
be best for them to know you have a lump saved up.” 

“I do not call that mine, it is yours. You know 
I told you I would throw it back, and so I have.” 

“ But then it ’s your’s if you need it.” 

“Don’t fear, mother, it will not fall from my lips; 


The Stolen Money. 


349 


but I have been thinking, supposing Saul had got 
hold of it. If he has he will never leave Kingum- 
ton without telling it.” 

‘‘I Ve always been careful about Saul’s seein’. It 
would n’t done, no how. I hardly think he knows 
anything about it. Then there is Tom, too. On 
his account I could n’t be puttin’ money in the bank, 
he ’s there so awful big. He ’d be sure to suspicion 
somethin’ wrong and tell it. I ’ve had to be most 
dreadful careful, and keep a little bank of my own.” 

“You do not trust all that amount of money in 
the house, I hope.” 

“No, it is right there,” placing her hand on that 
part of her person where it was concealed. 

“Heaven bless me,” exclaimed Sophia, “all that 
money there.” 

‘ ‘ Why, yes. I knowed a woman once who carried 
the price of a farm just so, several thousand dollars, 
and too, a good long while. You know you gener- 
ally sent home pretty heavy bills. Then I ’ve been 
a few times to Florenceburgh — up there don’t any- 
body know me; there I ’d get it changed into still 
larger bills. A thousand dollars ain’t much bulk 
when you have a good many dollars in one bill.” 

“But that ’s not a safe way to do, though, I tell 
you. Supposing something should happen you.” 

“ Oh, well, but then I ’m hopeful and always countin’ 
on the better, besides I can purty ginerally tell when 
anything is goin’ to happen by my dreams. I’m 
feelin’ a little bit scary now, my dream wasn’t any 
the best last night. I was handlin’ fresh beef, and 
seein’ so many white clothes layin’ round ; I do wish 
Saul would go off home.” 

“He will not, he will hang close here at Uncle 


350 


The Stareess Crown. 


Sammy’s, and they are as thick with Father Kin- 
kade’s people as two swarms of bees would be in 
one hive.” 

“I am most dreadful sorry I didn’t try to find 
out something before cornin’ away off here again, 
but then, there wasn’t much of any chance for it. 
It did beat all to hear the folks talk, it was the same 
thing everywhere we went, it was nothin’ but Syl- 
vester and his goodness, and what he had done in 
his short life and his triumphant death. When they 
come to that part, that was so, for we do know it 
seems good to die so happy, everybody wants to, 
but then, there isn’t any use in goin’ over with his 
perfections, for he wasn’t anything but human, and 
had a human heart like all the rest of us. But it 
was talk, talk and cry, cry, till I got clear sick of it, 
I am glad you don’t cry and sniffle all the time. I 
was scared the day of the funeral you took it so 
hard, but you seem to be gettin’ over it right well, I 
see. It’s no use, it never brings anybody back, I 
don’t care how much a body may want them.” 

“I know Sylvester was well meaning, but I would 
never again marry a minister, and always be hear- 
ing myself prayed for every day. It did use to so 
madden me, that I, to retaliate,, would sing for his 
hearing, 

" I cannot love as I have loved,* 

And yet I know not why, 

It is the one great woe of life 
To feel all feeling die.” 

‘‘Why, Sophia, did you sing that for him.^” 

“Of course I did, I felt it too, but likely I would 
not have sung it, had he not punished me with his 


Money Matters. 


35 


prayers. I did it to cool him — it did, too, he would 
shrink at the hearing of those words sooner than 
at any other thing I could say.” 

Still day after day passed and no one came from 
Kingumton. 

‘Mt’s likely,” said Sophia, “if I have got to hire 
a conveyance to carry me, when Father Kinkade 
has a throng of boys and a drove of horses. Here, 
mother, you just take the baby, and I will cross over 
to the deacon’s.” 

Ere she was ready to leave, the deacon was in 
sight making his way over with a slip of paper in 
his hand, which the}' were sure meant something. 
After having been seated a few minutes, he held up 
the paper, saying, “Here are the figures, this is the 
total amount rewarded your husband for pastoral 
labor. This sum— fifty — was an endowment to 
encourage him in the beginning. This here,” point- 
ing to the lower edge of the paper, “is the overplus 
and your late expenditures.” 

This threw Sophia into a fit of anger and many 
unnecessary declarations ensued. After some time 
had been spent in an unprofitable way, Aunt Sabrina 
put in a word by saying, it seemed like a shame that 
a minister’s wife should be so dependent. That 
Sophia was wantin’ to go to Kingumton on business, 
but hadn’t any way to go. 

The honest-hearted deacon told her he never tired 
doing good as he had opportunity, that he had no 
errand of his own to town, but it would not hurt him 
if he drove down to accommodate. It was therefore 
hastily agreed upon, and at an early hour the follow- 
ing morning Sophia and her mother were taken to 
Father Kinkade’s. 


352 


Thp: Starless Crown. 


It was a trying meeting. They were parties for 
whom Uncle Joe and Aunt Susan could feel no 
friendly relation, or present any token of fellowship. 

But there was that sweet babe, the object of 
Sylvester’s tender care, the pride of his young life. 
They loved the child for its father’s sake, and were 
more than willing to take it to themselves, nurture 
and care for it as they had its father before it. To 
Sophia the coldness was rather paralyzing for a 
while, but in time the story book was opened, and 
she related her wants, necessities, and expectations, 
and with all freedom reminded them of their duty 
to her as a daughter-in-law. 

Uncle Joe squared himself in his chair, adjusted 
his hands in his accustomed way when there was 
anything of moment to be said. His eyes were to 
the spectator a dictionary, and his lips and tongue 
were on a level. 

He told Sophia with emphasis that he was gov- 
ernor over his household and his land, that Sylvester 
had been considerate for his child, and that they 
entered into an agreement for the child in case it 
lived to be tw.enty-one. Also, had agreed to receive 
the child and care for it as they had for him if it was 
their privilege to do so, which agreement was carried 
into execution immediately after his death.” 

"‘Did he not make provision for me.^” 

“ He did not, and had it been his wish, it would 
not have been allowed. We do not wish to contend 
or recite history, but our poor boy’s life was made 
such by you, that we not only discard but disown 
you.” 

Aunt Sabrina put in a few words by saying she 
thought it would look most dreadful queer for 


Some Plain Talk. 


353 

Sophia, a minister’s widow, to be turned off that 
way — poor and with nothing to help herself. 

‘‘Mrs. Brown, our boy was paid, during his sta}' 
in Burkshire over twenty-five hundred dollars, with 
free house rent, besides a great many presents. 
Susan and I never went without carrying supplies 
with us. The most of their bread and butter was a 
gift from home, and yet our poor boy’s pockets were 
ever empty. If he needed a new book, or any little 
notion, he had to come home for the money. Why 
Because his wife carried the reins. She had to have 
every dollar placed in her hands or there was no 
living. The question is, what did she do with it.^ 
We all understand it perfectly, and all that remains 
to say is in whatever place she cast it, there she can 
go and pick it up.” 

“Father Kinkade, do you really mean that I am 
not to be provided with a home and daily supplies.^” 

“I mean you will not be. You cannot eat of my 
bread, but the child we would be glad to keep and 
will kindly care for it if left with us.” 

Aunt Susan, who had taken it in her arms and 
was bearing it closely to her bosom, trying to look 
down upon it with tear-clouded eyes, said in broken 
accents that she should like to keep the child ; 
that it would seem to her more like Sylvester than 
any other one ever could. 

“You will not,” said Sophia angrily, “it shall 
never know a Kinkade. No, indeed, you will never 
again see it,” and instantly snatched him away. 
And as soon as she could gather up her wrappings 
she dashed out into the street followed by her 
mother. 

But there was no conveyance. The good deacon 


23 


^54 


The Starless Crown. 


not having supposed it necessary to remain, had 
driven over to the town. What were they to do.^ 
As they were resting upon the horse-block, said 
Aunt Sabrina, ‘Wou didn’t half talk for yourself.” 

Mother, that old Father Kinkade has an iron- 
found will of his own. Just as soon as I saw him 
square himself, I knew well enough what was coming 
and whatever it was, it would be as unchangeable 
as the blue sea. The plain truth is, Sylvester has 
entered complaints against me, and has had his por- 
tion of property all secured to baby, and cut me off 
wholly.” 

“A man that would do sich a thing as that, I’d 
never wear mournin’ for,” said Aunt Sabrina. 

“I put it on for looks and the effect I supposed it 
would produce, but on me the key has been turned.” 

“We can’t stay out here; where are we goin’.^” 

‘‘To the nearest place,” said Sophia, and started 
to walk on. They had walked but a little distance 
when they were overtaken by Uncle Joe who kindly 
offered to carry them over to Uncle Sammy’s and 
though they disdained the thought, they were bound 
by the cord of necessity to accept the chance at 
hand. At Uncle Sammy’s they were to brave 
another encounter. The looks of Sophia with her 
long crape veil was as distasteful to Aunt Tabbathy 
as a bitter almond, or even more so. It was indeed 
hard to welcome those for whom' she had so little 
respect, nevertheless they were invited to remain to 
dinner. 

“Has Saul gone home,” asked Aunt Sabrina. 

“He has gone on an excursion with my sons.” 

“When is he coming back.^” and with a look of 
seriousness, continued by saying, she guessed some- 


Bitter Words. 


355 


thin’ would be done, there would be some findin’ out. 

Aunt Tabbathy was wise enough to allow Aunt 
Sabrina and Sophia the length of their chain until 
they had thoroughly sifted the Kinkade family and 
Sylvester’s unprofitable life with Sophia — her many 
trials, present wants and destitution, also the way 
she was stripped of everything, together with the 
burden the child was going to be to them. For 
aught was known she would have to be taken home 
to be supported by her father the same as before 
she was married, with more to care for than she 
took away. 

Aunt Tabbathy was plenty able to fill out the 
narrative on the opposite side of the question and 
did it to perfection, leaving no part dark or for- 
gotten. 

To Sophia it was a heart-grinding idea to think of 
Aunt Tabbathy having found and read those old let- 
ters. It still added a deeper sting when she was 
told the first step she took to encourage an advance- 
ment on the part of S3dvester. To know it was 
current that she had led her husband a hard life, and 
even wished he might not be permitted to return 
when he left her the last time was mortifying. And 
since it had pleased him to make a public exhibition 
of all that had passed between them, she would lay 
aside the crape. 

“’T ain’t to be wondered at that you’re cut off,” 
said Aunt Tabbathy. “I want to know, Sophia, if 
you did not make your last wish known in the 
presence of the messenger whom we sent to Burk- 
shire to bring Sylvester to us. It can be proved, 
and enough to condemn you on every hand. And 
of the enormous salary paid him, you stripped him 


356 


The Starless Crown. 


of it, to consume whatever part you pleased to your 
own gratification, and sent the balance home to yonr 
mother.” 

‘‘How did you find it out.^” 

“By the finger of God that sooner or later points 
out every ill.” 

“By the finger of Saul, you better have said.” 

“You need not feel you have a greater burden or 
care now than before you came. The child will be 
no expense or trouble to you if left with Aunt Susan.” 

“I would sooner bury it,” said Sophia. “They 
shall never have the privilege of caring for my child.” 

“Be careful Sophia, the hearing ear is near, as 
Sylvester said to you, ‘We know not what shall be 
on the morrow,’ you may not have the privilege of 
carrying your purposes into effect.” • 

They were at this point disturbed by a gentleman 
who had called with a telegram for Aunt Sabrina. 
Mr. Brown had been taken seriously ill and she was 
sent for to return immediately. 

The news brought the two. Uncle Joe and Sammy, 
from an adjoining room, where they had been atten- 
tively listening to the preceding conversation. 

After a few exclamations, and the lamentable cry, 
“What shall I do,” rung out, it was suggested by 
Uncle Sammy that he should carry them immediately 
back to Burkshire where they could with haste pack 
their goods and take the train at Clarence for home. 
That the}^ could get through just about as soon as 
to start from Kingumton. The proposition was 
considered a wise one by all interested, and in a 
short time they were riding, followed close by Uncle 
Joe in his long-boxed bobs. 

In consequence of the sad news from Copperville, 


Father Brown’s Illness. 


357 


I the parties were less inclined to be watchful over 
each other, and by notifying the deacon, and having 
his assistance, also that of his family, the wearables 
were soon packed. Things were sifted and divided, 

5 those things which had been given to Sophia were 
; speedily boxed, and whatever was claimed by Uncle 
I Joe was loaded in his sleigh, and so fortunate were 
i they in getting things ready for shipping, that in less 
i than twenty-four hours from the time they had started 
with the good deacon for Kingumton, the parsonage 
was once more vacated, and Aunt Sabrina and 
Sophia were on board the train bound for Copper- 
ville. 

As the morning star grew dim and sightless at 
the reappearing of the gray dawn, the clouds of 
thick smoke from the engine arose in mid-air, and 
drifted away on the floating breeze, watched by 
anxious eyes. The hearts of Aunt Sabrina and 
Sophia were meantime throbbing with an intense 
feeling of anxiety, fear and dread. The train that 
was speeding them onward ere noonday reached 
their destination, and they were soon once more at 
home, but only there in time to see the last 
moments of a life dear to them, and exchange a 
farewell token with the dying husband and father. 

Alas, what an unlooked for event! A cloud of 
mourning was now hovering over them, caused by 
the loosening of that cord which had bound them 
together in life. 

Experience taught them the language of a tear, 
they wept in sorrow. Their tears were those of 
most bitter grief. There was a thrill of agony that 
startled every nerve, a terror that naught could 
assuage. Sylvester’s parting word came current 


The Starless Crown. 


35S 


to the mind of Sophia, ‘‘We know not what shall 
be on the morrow,” and fell heavily from her lips. 
She realized that which she had never before given 
a thought. Death enters here! Oh, cruel death! 

It had previously been considered as possible, but 
not at all probable. It would come sometime, but 
that sometime had ever been placed a great way off 
at the furthest end of a long life. How natural, 
but how unwise! In the midst of their affliction 
they would cry, but their cries would not bring him 
back, neither could the application of the most sooth- 
ing phrase prove an antidote to appease the touch 
of woe. 

After looking long at the lifeless face they shrunk 
back and- away hand in hand, to a lone apartment, 
closely followed by little Edd, who clung to his 
mother, trying to hide his face in the folds of her 
drapery. 

They were as two who were about to enter upon 
an unbeaten path with none to lead the way. 

“I don’t see,” said Aunt Sabrina, “but I shall 
have to take out one of these bills to pay the expen- 
ses, we sha’n’t want to bury father poverty like. 
You know he hadn’t anything laid up. He never 
could get ahead any, and here is this mortgage 
hangin’ on us. Blessed thing you didn’t throw away 
your mournin’, for now you want it.” 

“Mother,” said the lad, “father told us when he 
was sick, he was glad he had something laid up in 
the sky, and that is what he ’s gone to now. Father 
is rich up there.” 

“Child, that portion is what he gained by his 
religion, that ’s all for himself. It won’t help us along 
any, here.” 


Burial of Mr. Brown. 


35^ 

^‘Father couldn’t lay up down here ’cause it took 
all his money to pay his debts.” 

‘^You are a smart little boy,” said Sophia. “You 
seem to have gotten ahead a great ways.” 

“ He shall go right straight down stairs. I can’t 
hear sich talk from my baby, when here I am crushed, 
almost crushed to death. What shall we do.^” fell 
from her lips, followed by a wail. 

^‘Oh, mother, we can’t now plan for the future,” 
said Sophia, “but as you say, I see no other way 
but to use of that in your possession. In a few days, 
we will try and take things in consideration,” and 
with a shrug of the shoulders she continued, “ long 
years to come without father. The very thought 
chills me, as I cast a glance over the prospects before 
us. If Saul was only here, but the dear knows when 
he will get around. May not be here yet in a whole 
week, and when he does come he will be so filled 
with lessons taught him by Aunt Tabbathy that he 
will not be himself.” 

At this point they were summoned to meet those 
who were appointed to officiate, and make known 
their wishes, which were obeyed, and the sum 
required was drawn from the private savings bank 
to defray the necessar}^ expenses, and every arrange- 
ment was made agreeable to the wish of the wife 
and daughter. Two days later and all that remained 
of Jeremiah Brown was hidden from mortal view. 

Job says, “If a man die, shall he live again.” 

Jesus Christ says, “I am the resurrection and the 
life, he that believeth in me, though he were dead, 
yet shall he live.” 

The occurrence was a sad unlooked for one by 
Saul who had ever felt deeply in behalf of his uncle. 


The Starless Crown. 


3^0 

and was ever ready at mercy’s call to render him 
any assistance. He made no delay, but as soon as 
he learned of his illness hastened rapidly homeward, 
but in consequence of a mishap, the trains were not 
on time, which made tardy his progress, and he was 
only there in time to be allowed the privilege of a 
last look — a farewell leave with the family. 

“Friend after friend departs, 

Who hath not lost a friend? 

There is no union here of hearts, 

That finds not here an end,” 


Useless Refinings. 


361 


CHAPTER XXXIV. 


! The position that Sophia was now doomed to 
! occupy was above all the most terrible to her. The 
vision of fame, the anticipated glories of some pro* 
; fession, the fascinating beauties of wealth had faded 
I like the frost-bitten flowers in autumn. Once more 
she finds herself an occupant under the parental 
roof, pining under the circumstances of her humilia- 
tion. She reviews her better opportunities which 
have passed, and sighs over her self-wrought defeats. 
She would watch Mr. Harrison’s return to and fro 
between the cottage and his place of business with 
admiration and regret. 

She considered her union with Rev. Sylvester but 
an inconsistent step, and that her happiness had had 
no comparison with the yoke she had worn. Her 
father, whose pride and glory she had been, was 
taken away, and the thought of her becoming 
dependent upon her own exertions made life look 
to her like a long wearisome journey. The gloomy 
foreboding of the present appeared unalterable to 
her, and she grieved over the unfortunate lot to 
which fate had bound her. 

“We can’t tell, Sophia, it isn’t best to be grievin’ 
so. That child may come up and yet be a great 
comfort to you, and now we do know if he lives to 
be twenty-one he will have his father’s portion, and 
have plenty of property, and it is a poor son that 
would n’t take care of his mother.” 


362 


The Stakeess Crown. 


‘‘I do not count on such comforts,” said Sophia, 
‘‘they are like pearls in the ocean, good if you could 
get them. I want none of this hoped for blessed- 
ness, I want something I can see — I want the bird in 
the hand. Just think, twenty years, long years, lie 
between this child and his portion of property. By 
that time I shall be worn to threads taking care of 
him, there will not be left of me a tittle. I have not 
had one comfortable night since Sylvester left me 
the last time.” 

“Why! has he been so much worse ” 

“I do not know, Sylvester always took the care 
of him nights. He loved so to do. It made no dif- 
ference with him how much he worried and cried, 
he was the same little cherub. He never seemed to 
grow tired of baby, I don’t believe he knew what 
tired was, for I never heard him complain, I don’t 
care how busy he was kept. He would always help 
do the housework, and do it as well as I could, 
besides it did not hurt him as much, and had plenty 
time to study all he needed after the work was done. 
In every such thing he was really all I could ask. 
He never objected to my carrying the purse, but 
seemed willing as long as I did not refuse him 
money. Of course I considered myself competent 
of knowing what was needed. I always did the 
planning and kept all the bills, and such is woman’s 
rights. Now they have it to talk about, but I don’t 
care, what I wish is that I had more closely pinched, 
and sent more to you than I did, I could as well 
have saved twelve hundred. Now father dying, this 
you have has had to be broken, and still more will 
have to be used.” 

“I’ve been thinkin’,” said Aunt Sabrina, “ maybe 


What shall we do? 


363 


we had best take up this mortgage and stop the 
interest, pay up all the ’rearages, there would likely 
be quite a little left, then keep boarders, — that I 
expect we could do.” 

“Keep boarders! Only to think what a life, 
always with my hands in the dishwater. I, a 
widow, a minister’s widow, to become a waiter,” 
and with her voice shrill and her hand trembling as 
she raised it, saying “God forbid.” 

He did; but how thoughtless the expression, and 
how quickly would she have swerved from it could 
she have heard the still voice whisper, “I will.” 

The poor straying child of nature, who had lived 
ignorant of immortal love, trusting to the world’s 
fee, counting upon long years until she should have 
reached the brow of age, was destined to deeper 
dread, a more bitter disappointment. 

Early, ere their financial affairs were settled, and 
whilst their future prospects for life were yet dimmed 
with perplexity, the hectic coloring was penciled upon 
her cheeks by the hand of God. 

One day as Aunt Sabrina sat looking critically at 
Sophia’s pallid face, she said “I don’t think you 
need be worryin’ about workin’ to live, for I can 
stretch this private bank money a long ways, and 
likely it won’t be long before something will turn up. 
as you are now you could n’t help me, and I couldn’t 
alone wait on a host of boarders if I had them, so 
jist be quiet as you can, you will all the sooner git 
well ; there has always been a mornin’ and evenin’ 
star, and there alwa3^s will be. Father’s dyin’ has 
come awful hard, that I know. ’Tis n’t as if we had 
a fortune to lean on left us, but I think we will get 
along right after awhile. To help ourselves is a new 


3% 


The Starless Crown. 


thing, it will come more natural in the course of 
time. A new wheel always runs best after it has 
been used, and that will be about the way with us.” 

“Mother, how much of that money is there left.^” 

“Why child there isn’t so much less than a 
thousand dollars. There was quite a little bit over 
that. We haven’t paid out so much, you see. Then 
it’s Saul who holds the mortgage, he ain’t like bein’ 
a stranger, I should n’t wonder if we had best let it 
alone as it is for awhile. To pay it would only 
open his eyes; I don’t suppose he would ever 
crowd us. I did think one spell it would be bet- 
ter to pa}^ it off, maybe, and clear our home from 
debt, but as things seem to work against us, I think 
we had best hold fast to the bird in the hand, and 
not trust to one in the bush.” 

The two still continued their planning for the 
future, and finally decided that they had a sufficient 
sum in their possession to last a long time without 
an}'^ particular effort on their part. And as Saul 
was kindly disposed, it was not thought he would 
allow them to want, and, there would come, in all 
probability a successful turn for them by patient 
waiting, if not otherwise through his influence. 

Time jogged on more wearily than ever before. 
Sophia continued to grow more and more feeble day 
by day. Little Lemuel worried and cried as though 
he realized he was being cared for by new friends. 
Aunt Sabrina strove, toiled and tired, and at length, 
whether from over-exertion of body and mind, 
or actual disease, is not known, only to appearance 
she became seriously ill. 

The good doctor administered according to his 
professional ability, and the ladies from all parts of 


The Robbery. 


365 


the town came flocking in like ministering angels to 
soothe, comfort and assist, and Satan came also 
among them. 

It was very comforting to Aunt Sabrina to know 
she had so many friends. She had never seen the 
time when she felt better pleased with the ladies of 
Copperville. She really felt to reproach herself for 
not having before more highly prized them. In this 
state of appreciation she became strengthened, and 
the more fully she realized what her position had 
been, and the faithful attention given her the greater 
became her sense of gratification. It could well be 
compared to a volcanic eruption when two extremes 
meet, and in this case, what could be otherwise 
expected when Aunt Sabrina awoke to the fact that 
she had been defrauded by artful hands, and robbed 
of her hidden capital, but at what unconscious hour, 
or by whom she could not tell. 

All alike had been faithfully kind as far as her 
judgment carried her, but to find her little bank (as 
she called it) in its proper place empty, threw her 
into perfect parox3^sms. 

Sophia at once awoke with suspicion, but before 
she could get a satisfactory answer to her inquiry, 
“What, mother.^” she fell, and in a short time was 
to appearance in much the same condition. The 
physician, who was immediately summoned, stood 
for the first few minutes in earnest attention, then 
turning to Saul with a queer look, said, “Rather 
strange illness.” 

‘‘Do you not call it spasmodic,” asked Saul. 

“ There is an extreme inflammation in the vicinity 
of the heart,” responded the doctor. 

“But they are recoverable, are they not.^” 


366 


The Starless Crown. 


After a long pause he cautiously whispered, “But 
faint hope, Saul.” 

“ But faint hope! doctor, did you say.^” startled 
with surprise. 

Aunt Sabrina, whose ear had caught the whisper 
uttered with a shriek, ‘‘I thought you told me, 
doctor, the fever was all broke up, and I was Visin’ 
as fast as anybody could. You needn’t be botherin’ 
about me, in the future I ’ll take care of myself. If I 
had all the way through from the beginnin’, I’d 
been better off than I now am, and Sophia would 
been in no sich condition as this either, poor child!” 

After which, Saul who had been looking on with 
extreme anxiety was at once seriously impressed to 
believe that which had been told him, and looking 
the doctor earnestly in the face for a moment, then 
making a gesture with his hand walked through the 
hall and out on the veranda closely followed by the 
doctor, who without hesitation said, “My remedy 
was a good one, wan’t it. It was my opinion to 
advance the idea that they were dying would bring 
them to life. There is trouble, do you understand 
the nature of it.^” 

‘T was very suddenly impressed, immediately 
after Aunt Sabrina spoke.” 

“I recommend your influence in their behalf, it 
may assist in their recovery.” 

“I should not feel at liberty to look into their mat- 
ters of business, unless solicited so to do. I have not 
at any time been made their confidential friend. If it 
is mere trouble at this point, they will in all proba- 
bility wear through and come out right in the end.” 

‘‘Mrs. Brown will, but — but mark my word — 
Mrs. Kinkade is on the decline.” 


Mrs. Kinkade an Invalid. 


367 

j “Do you really think that.^” 

“I am sorry to say I think it an undisputable fact, 
j but it ’s the last thought she has.” 

' “Yes, indeed, she has ever set death and the grave 
ahead a great ways.” 

“It would not be prudent to mention it to her 
it would only help hurry her out of the world. She 
:i may last several months, but I doubt her seeing the 
i month of June. Her failure has been rapid since I 
- was first called to see her mother.'” 

“It is for her undying soul that I should grieve, 
for unless she meets with a change of heart, she will 
I go unprepared into the presence of her God.” 

The doctor sighed, and shook his head. Aunt 
'• Sabrina’s mind had become too deeply awakened to 
: allow herself to quietly rest, and happening to turn 
I her head sidewise on her pillow just at the time, 

I she caught full sight of Saul’s gesture in the looking- 
I glass. 

I She was sure that meant something and determined 
if possible to know ; she leaped from the bed and 
lightly followed on into the parlor. , There taking a 
sitting position close to a window near where Saul 
and the doctor were standing, she could hear and 
understand distinctly their conversation. 

Not willing they should overtake her in her effort 
to learn the extent of their meaning, and with her 
heart crushed with an almost deathly terror, she 
stumbled back, and carelessly throwing herself upon 
the bed, wept pitiably. 

The attention of the two was at once arrested, 
and immediately returning to the bedside felt confi- 
dent of her undertaking and success. 

As their efforts to soothe her were unavailing the 


368 


The Starless Crown. 


doctor soon left, leaving Saul to administer according 
to his directions until his return. 

‘‘Doctors are turr’ble wise,” said Aunt Sabrina, 
as soon as she heard him walking away. “It seems 
they can tell what’s in a body’s heart without any 
trouble.” 

Saul, who was tenderly touched with the appear- 
ance and circumstances, approached her kindly and 
bade her be consistently quiet, and try to get well 
again. “It is very necessary you should,” he said, 
“and quietude is essential in your case.” 

“I guess I know all about that. Bring here that 
that chair, I’m goin’ to put on my clothes. I ain’t 
goin’ to have any more doctorin’ done. Where is 
Sophia, poor child 

“Aunt Sabrina, you should be consistent with 
reason, and not be too venturesome. You have 
been quite sick, but this relapse is supposed to have 
originated from mental fatigue, which might again 
prostrate you. You are old enough to be wise for 
yourself.” 

At this point Aunt Sabrina revealed to Saul her 
trouble, and led him into every particular in regard 
to it — what had been their practice, how and in 
what way it had been conducted, showed him the 
little bank and how it had been adjusted to her 
form, and the mysterious working to remove the 
bills from the thick sack firmly sewed, all of which 
Saul listened to with great earnestness, until he had 
learned the narrative from Aunt Sabrina’s own lips, 
which exactly corresponded with that intrusted to 
his keeping during his stay with Aunt Tabbathy, 
and in his old familiar way added, “With what meas- 
ure ye mete, it shall be measured to 370U again.” 


Facing Stern Realities. 


369 


‘‘Yes, I s’pose so. That’s about what I expected 
to hear. I never in my life heard a man say he was 
in favor of woman’s rights.” 

“I am greatly in favor of woman’s rights, Aunt 
Sabrina, but not in woman’s wrongs. Anything 
unjustly gotten is a heavy loss to an unfortunate 
gainer. Your accumulating means as you have, 
through Sophia, should have expected no better 
luck. No doubt the ones who drew the money 
from you felt they were doing no worse than you 
had. Not only so, but the very thought of your 
carrying such an amount of money about your per- 
son was unadvisable in the extreme. There are 
those in town who have believed this business was 
being carried on just as you have named, and those 
who have no care for honesty or honor, and who 
would be as likely as any to have an idea about it, 
would, if they had an opportunity, hunt for hidden 
money, and your sickness has afforded an ample one, 
especially to the night watchers. Had you advised 
with me you would have shunned many ills which 
you have had to meet. All I can now say in regard 
to the matter is keep still. Do not speak of it, you 
would be the more likely to get clew to it by so 
doing. Sophia may need it, and at present should 
have that which she has saved, but my regard for 
her is such that she shall not suffer.” 

“God bless you, Saul,” said Aunt Sabrina, mean- 
time throwing her arms around his neck, “I am so 
glad to hear you say that. I am willin’ myself to 
work, but with Sophia it always seemed so hard 
to her.” 

“But I don’t believe what that doctor said about 
her though. She is bein’ pulled down takin’ care of 


24 


37 ° 


The Starless Crown. 


that child, that is what ails her. I wish she had 
left it in Kingumton. Maybe she would if it had n’t 
been for their meddlin’. But you didn’t tell me 
where she ’d gone.” 

I think to her room, the boys are there.” 

The talk excited Sophia to make another effort 
to get to her mother’s room, saying, as she entered, 
‘T should not have thought I could creep out, but 
the doctor’s imposition maddened me, and I ran.” 

Saul’s magnitude of mind in skillfully turning 
words to his will, truly did in time alleviate the 
aggravated feelings of sorrow and disappointment 
in the minds of Aunt Sabrina and Sophia, so much 
so that they were able to look through the over- 
hanging cloud with a susceptibility almost remark- 
able. 

‘Tt won’t buy heaven for them anyway,” said 
Aunt Sabrina, “and accordin’ to Saul’s doctrin’ it 
will fall back on them some day, whoever it is that ’s 
got it. I shouldn’t wonder if we’d find it out that 
way. Blessed thing if we should. Truth and honesty 
is what comes out ahead, I’ve made up my mind to 
that,” and resting her chin on one hand, she gently 
closed her eyelids, and for some minutes sat as one 
seriously weighing a valuable thought. Soon after 
which, with a great degree of earnestness she spoke 
out, “Do you remember what Tabbathy said there 
the last day just before startin’.” 

“Indeed I do, and I am thinking what she would 
say again, and all the rest of them, were they to 
hear our luck. It would be, ‘A just judgment upon 
them, for, whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he 
also reap.’ I am, mother, so sorry you dared to 
carry it by you. Do you not recollect what I said 


Unhappy Sophia. 


I 

I 


371 


j once, supposing something should happen to you.^” 
‘‘Why, I was only sick in my own bed at home, 
and I do wonder who’d dare be meddlin’ ’round me 
like that.” 

“A thief would, and did.” 

I “Well, when I’m sick next time. I’ll be enough 
I for them. I’ll warr’nt it. I’ll keep my eyes open 
! except when the key’s turned.” 

To Sophia each day was a telling one. She con- 
tinued to grow weaker and more emaciated, but 
still remained unconscious of the disease that was 
preying upon her until attacked with hemorrhage, 

I which not only prostrated her, but revealed to her 
I her own indisputable condition. 

I For many hours after she was unable to speak, 

I but the look of her eye denoted the sorrow she was 
I undergoing. 

I As soon as Saul thought it consistent, he inquired 
^ of her if she was aware that her physical nature was 
sinking under the weight of disease, to which she 
faintly answered, “How can that be.^ I love myself 
so well, and this beautiful world, how can I give it 
up for the dark and lonely grave 

“ But do you not know we cannot contend with the 
Almighty.^ We can only invoke and implore. We 
cannot say to disease and death. Stay back! They 
are God’s messengers. He speaks and they obey. 
God called your husband, His voice was heard and 
he was taken — your father, and he went away. ‘All 
flesh is as grass, and all the glory of man as the 
flower of grass.’ If God is pleased to reach forth 
for you, we cannot either of us stay His hand. But 
Sophia, I will do for you all I can, I will imploringly 
ask for you at the Throne of Grace, I will plead in 


The Starless Crown. 


372 

your behalf that He stays His hand until you shall 
have become reconciled to Him.” 

“ Saul, ask Him to make me well to live the life 
I love. I do not want to die, I am afraid to die, 

“‘And go we know not where, 

To lie in cold obstruction and to rot.”' 

“I will ask him to restore you, if it can be in any 
way consistent with His will, and above all, that a 
new heart may be given you, that if you leave us 
you may leave behind , you an evidence of Divine 
favor.” Then kneeling by her bedside he breathed 
forth a heartfelt and searching prayer. It reached 
the Throne.” 

Still she continued to lie day after day, longing for 
the joys of earth, and was unwilling to even think of 
exchanging the visible for the invisible world only 
as she was made obliged to by the progress of her 
disease. She could see herself only in the light of 
nature’s grace, and all along the line of life could 
find no place where she had sinned against the Holy 
One and Just, and had lived a stranger to her 
Advocate. 

There was nothing of which Saul could think that 
in any way would be likely to benefit her, that he 
did not try, encouraged by faith. He would often 
sing for her, and at one time he sang 

“Within thy circling power I stand, 

On every side I find thy hand. 

Awake, asleep, at home, abroad, 

I am surrounded still with God.” 

after whieh she said ‘‘ I wish I was like you, Saul.” 

He returned a smile and recommenced with the 
words : 


Still Unbelieving. 


373 


1 “ What love has done, sing earth around, 

Angels prolong th’ eternal sound ; 

Lo! Jesus bleeding on the tree. 

There, there, the love of God I see. 

“ I look, I gaze — my rebel heart 
Feels its own hardness soon depart, 

Repenting tears begin to roll. 

And love, in streams, flows through my soul. 

“ The cross I view — Oh, w'ondrous love, 

My sins expire, my fears remove, 

My wicked enmity is slain, 

I’m reconciled — I’m born again.” 

Tossing her handkerchief over her eyes she 
remained silent, but to Saul there came a flash of 
hope that the Spirit had commenced a work of 
grace in her heart ’long side her will. 

He continued to prayerfully reason with her, and 
to enlighten her mind, by presenting the truth of 
her unregenerated nature and her need of repentance, 
and becoming justified by faith. Yet to Sophia, 
through all the long hours that lengthened into days 
was that gloomy grave before her, and she was 
afraid to enter. She had not awakened to the obli- 
gations she was under to God, or to realize her need 
of a Savior, or look into the truth of her unsanctified 
nature. She could be affected to tears, but that will 
was unsubdued. 

Said Saul to her one day, when she was in great 
distress of mind over her fearful condition, “I have 
faith to believe you will, in answer to prayers offered 
in your behalf, see God as your father, and feel the 
loving kindness of a merciful Redeemer before you 
pass away. But God alone can do the work, and 
to him shall be all the glory.” 

A few mornings later, and at an early hour she 


374 


The Starless Crown. 


asked her mother to call Saul to come quickly to her, 
which she immediately did. 

She had just awakened from a frightful dream. 
She told him she had been standing upon the very 
brink of a terrible chasm, or river, she knew not 
what to call it. It was no wider than an ordinary 
river, but so long that she could not see the end 
from either way, and so dark. It was, she said, a 
thick impenetrable darkness, too dark to see below 
its surface, and upon the furthest edge she was stand- 
ing so near that she would with the least jostle have 
fallen, to sink, to have been sunken irrecoverably into 
that dark river. 

But upon the opposite shore she saw a fertile field, 
wide-spread like a beautiful landscape with its mounds 
and fountains, flowery lawns and groves dressed in 
living green, waving their leafy boughs in summer 
air beneath a sunny sky. 

There too, she could see many moving about 
apparently in the sunshine of perpetual happiness. 
Among those she had recognized her husband who 
seemed to be caring for her, and was anxious she 
should cross over to him, but not from where she 
was standing, but he would beckon her to the right, 
just a little way to where the chasm was bridged. 

She saw the bridge, it was but a little step from 
her — beautiful in its structure andhandsomel}^ lighted, 
and to this he lovingly beckoned her to try to get 
to the bridge, and cross over to him in safety. 

She said whilst she could not hear his voice, 
she knew his meaning, and though she was afraid 
she would fall if she stepped, she did try, but she 
could not move her feet. In her agony trying to 
move, to get to the bridge, she awoke. 


The Eleventh Hour. 


375 


Saul, after attentively listening to the dream, 
clasped his hands firmly, saying, “Blessed be God, 
as I have before said. He can do the work. Sophia, 
He has in merciful loving kindness favored you with 
this vision in dream to show you your position and 
need of a Savior to light you through the valley of 
the shadow of death, and to the society of the just 
made perfect. From where you now are, away 
from the bridge of glory, you cannot reach the land 
of peace. But He, the Prince of life, is ready, wait- 
ing, wanting to ihrow around you his everlasting 
arm.” He then sung for her: 

“ The vision of the tomb is past, 

Beyond it who can tell 
In what mysterious region cast, 

Immortal spirits dwell? 

“I know not, but I soon shall know 
When life’s sore conflicts cease, 

When this desponding heart lies low 
And I shall rest in peace.” 

” For see, on death’s bewildering wave. 

The rainbow hope arise, 

A bridge of glory o’er the grave 
That bends beyond the skies.” 

As the chime of bells disturb the tired sleeping 
ones to wakefulness, even so the dreamy vision 
awoke Sophia from her long slumber in sin’s dark 
realm. 

He conscience revealed to her that which she had 
not before known as having, a sinful heart — one 
unrenew^ed by Divine Grace. Her past life came up 
before her like a dense wilderness, through which 
there could come no gleam of light. She sorrowed 
over her sightlessness and her sins. She realized 
she had grieved her Maker in a thousand ways, and 


37*5 


The Starless Crown. 


dwelt much upon the root of enmity which had 
grown in her heart and born most bitter fruit. 
Those harsh inconsiderate expressions which had 
fallen from her lips oftentimes so inhumanly in refer- 
ence to many, more especially Maria, were to her a 
pang of deepest woe, and she sighed to be forgiven. 
Her husband, the look of his placid countenance, his 
indulgence, his faithfulness, his fervent prayers, and 
her own unrighteousness all arose afresh, and swept 
over her like fiery flames from which she could feel 
no safety. She could now see with unfeigned eyes, 
and confess to God with unfeigned lips, but from 
her, one like her, he had turned away. 

During those days of mental suffering she asked 
to have her poor helpless babe returned to those who 
loved him best, the only mention she made in refer- 
ence to the world lying behind her. With this 
weight of sorrow and dismay, she sunk into a state 
of impenetrable darkness of mind, “Lost, lost,” she 
would faintly whisper; no psalm, no hymn, no word 
of promise could find a tying place within her breast; 
no prayer could sooth her sorrowing soul. All was 
lost — her hope, her life, her heaven, were lost. 
Jesus was able, she believed it; but how could it be. 
He save such an one as she! she was sure of having 
passed beyond the boundary of His love. Like the 
doomed who fall in the arms of fate and bow beneath 
the rod, she faintly said again, as though it were the 
last, “I’m lost, but God is good.” 

Mr. Starky, who was standing near her bedside, 
said with emphasis “ Lost ! lost ! because your sins are 
greater than Christ’s love.^ far from it. It was the 
lost He died to save. To the thief on the cross He 
said, ‘ To-day shalt thou be with me in paradise.’ ” 


Sylvester’s Prayers Answered. 


377 


When he spoke she raised her eyes to him with a 
look of appreciation, then, after closing them for a 
few minutes apparently in silent prayer, she opened 
them heavenward, and raising her hands high, she 
exclaimed aloud “Glory! glory! I have gotten, I 
have gotten the victory ! ” and passed awa}^ to receive 
her crown, but starless. 


THE END. 



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